Growing Up With Cobi: Epilogue By Paul, Brian, and Jeff Clavelle

By Paul Clavelle

What is the magic that pets bring into our lives? How do they help us all, young and old, grow, sometimes in ways we would not have expected? Growing Up With Cobi is one family's story, recounted through the father's journal jottings during the years when his two sons, with the help of their shit-tzu, Cobi, made the transition from preteens to young men. If you've ever had a pet, or just wondered what that might be like, you'll enjoy this gentle account of a Mom, a Dad, two boys, and their dog.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: May 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781483484815

Book preview

GROWING UP

WITH

COBI

Epologue by Paul, Brian, and Jeff Clavelle

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PAUL CLAVELLE

Copyright © 2018 Paul Clavelle.

Interior Graphics/Art Credit: All pictures have been taken by family members.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-8480-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-8481-5 (e)

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 04/20/2018

To Brian and Jeff,

and, of course, to Cobi

Introduction

"Children and dogs are as necessary

to the welfare of the country as

Wall Street and the railroads."

Harry S Truman

Toya was three when I bought her from a family that needed to cut back on the number of shih-tzus it owned. (Too much competition among the females, the woman of the house explained. Made sense to me.)

I was so proud of having quickly found a dog that met our recently-defined requirements: small, house-broken, fixed, non-allergenic. And regal, to boot. (Her ancestors were bred to sit on the laps of Tibetan and Chinese royalty.) Carla and the boys will be so happy, I told myself.

It was only when I brought her home, to the chagrined amusement of Carla and the boys, that I began to see what was obvious to everybody else on first glance: She was undernourished; her coat was dirty and matted; and she was missing some teeth.

Paul/Dad, how could you?

But, alas, we were stuck with her (All sales final), so we made do the best we could.

Carla took charge.

She needs to be groomed.

Spend money to groom a dog?

Yes, it’s non-negotiable.

And so she was groomed.

The boys insisted on the next improvement.

We don’t want a dog named Toya.

What would you suggest?

Cobi, they agreed, naming her in honor of the shih-tzu that we had dog-sat a few weeks before – the dog that convinced Carla and the boys that we could, after all, have a dog, despite their allergies. (Shih-tzus don’t shed.)

And so Cobi she became.

The housebroken promise that had weighed so heavily in my decision to buy her? Not quite true. Maybe it was the new, unfamiliar surroundings. Let’s just say it took a while before she lived up to her billing. Until then, we all just had to clean off our shoes, and the carpet, every now and then.

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Cobi, before grooming

Oh, and the firm decision to have her spend her nights in the brand-new cage we had bought in anticipation of her arrival? Easier said than done. I don’t remember what we did with the cage. Probably gave it to somebody who would make better use of it.

Cobi also had her own stubborn ideas about her twice-a-day walks: where to walk, how long to stay out, where to poop and pee. But we had watched The Dog Whisperer. We knew what we had to do: establish ourselves as the alpha dog. She, too, knew what she had to do. We eventually worked it out; sometimes, she even let us think we were in charge.

And always, as we started off down the street,