Cody and Me

I’m not a dog person.  I met this guy and was trying to impress him 14 years ago, so I pretended to like his dog.  Let me tell you, this canine wasn’t too in to me either.  I was interrupting time with his “person” and he was not thrilled. 

He was pretty cute.  Huge ears that flopped over, enormous paws.  So smart.  It wasn’t until we, his “parents” sent him to puppy school that things turned around for Cody and me.  I was the one to pick him up.  He was SO happy to see me that we immediately formed a bond.  

Apparently my diversionary tactics worked, because I impressed the guy and somehow tricked him into proposing marriage (12 years, two kids and several countries later, he still claims I’m trying to “trap” him).  So this was our little family.  Brad, Cody and me (in that order).

This dog was smart. He was disciplined.  He never got people food and he never had accidents.  He didn’t jump on people and he, years later, took all the crap my human offspring could dish out.  He moved to Belgium and back and his life-long best friend was a fat orange tabby cat named Voltaire.  Their favorite game was wrestling.  Voltaire’s head in Cody’s mouth and his paws securing him around Cody’s neck.  When we lost Voltaire to spinal cancer, Cody was lonely. 

Thanks to all his friends, Mary, Jack, Arielle, Andy over the years, Cody lived to be 14 years old.  Almost unheard of for a German Shepherd.  Not being a dog person, I was incredibly cavalier about his last day.  I didn’t think it would have an impact.  I won’t recount the drama and the tears of holding him at the vet at the end. 

I still don’t know if I can count myself as a dog person, but there is no question in my mind, that I am and will always be, a Cody-person.

Miss ya, buddy.