Call me Cocoa

In the past I have talked about how you humans agonize about picking a name for us canines when we are puppies – and then you go ahead and make up a variety of “other” names for us as well.  For example.  My name is Viktor.  Yet I also go by Vik, Baby V, Viktorino and Trino – with is a nickname for a nickname.  So of course, when my human’s mother arrived, she had to come up with her OWN set of names for us.

Paxton is “Big Guy”.  Frodo is “Buttercup” – don’t even ASK me how she got THAT one.  And me?  I’m Cocoa.  Cocoa.  I don’t get this one either.  I mean I’m not chocolate in color. 

My human asked her mother how she got Cocoa, and her mother wasn’t sure.  And THEN – they both remembered.  My human had a stuffed dog when she was a kid (like 350 some odd years ago) and the dog was named Cocoa.  Which of COURSE, got my human – the woman who is SUPER nostalgic – and a BIT of a pack rat – to go searching for Cocoa.  She KNEW she still had him.  Somewhere.  Well she found him.  Unfortunately, Cocoa has not aged well.  His stuffing is coming out – because his coat…well…it has disintegrated.  He has been repaired – but he must be handled VERY gently – or his head will fall off from what is left of his body.  It took a LOT of work to prop him up for the picture – and my attempt to rip off his remaining ear was promptly met with a loud “Noooooooooo!”  (That's me on the left, if you're not sure).  So I took the shot with him and Cocoa went back to his closet.  The next time he comes out – well…who knows WHAT he’ll look like.  It’s funny – but in his day, I think Cocoa was ALMOST kind of PON-like.  Actually, it’s kind of spooky…

So this weekend I got to meet a dog that has been living here – who I didn’t even know existed.  And I am still behaving – and now, I am answering to the name Cocoa.  The things one does to become favorite grand-dog…

©  2015 Linda Wozniak