Poco - The World's Biggest Cowardly Buffoon

Poco is a barker and aggressive with dogs outside his own pack.

He's a combination of Black Labrador and something else which accounts for the long,
red coat that grows out after a while.  Keeping him trimmed is a job.

He's huge and a handful, but he's beginning to settle down now that he's into his fifth year.
For all of his bravado, he's terrified of loud noises, especially fireworks which are
prolific here in Costa Rica.  Every excuse to celebrate is accompanied with fireworks,
especially through Christmas season and into the New Year.

Poco was only a pathetic little puppy when Gregg brought him home.  He was
sitting outside the supermarket starving.  Gregg made a deal with God that if
the dog was still there when he left the market, he would bring it home.  It was, so he did.

Poco was in terrible condition, and he nearly died the first night he was here with us.
We managed to get some food into him, and eventually he recovered and started to grow.
Gregg named him "Poco" which means "little bit" in Spanish... a bit ironic considering
how big "little bit" has grown.  He's so big that I can't walk him on a leash outside
of the yard since he is powerful and aggressive with strange dogs.

He has been poisoned twice.  The first time we suspected a toad.  This last time
was definitely an evil person intent on doing away from him.  Our local vet came just in time
and saved our big baby.

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Well, some time has passed since I last updated this.  Poor Poco lost the battle with diabetes, ehrlichia, and anemia
three days ago.  I spent three nights on the floor with him to keep him from dying alone, and he knew I was there.
One night was at the vet's while Poco received two blood transfusions and insulin shots.  We had hoped to
be able to continue treating him at home, but it just didn't work.  With dogs, you can't use the little finger-prick device
to get a blood sample to test.  You have to use a needle to withdraw a sample.  And we didn't have the machine,
either.  In addition, the ehrlichia was increasing the anemia, and the poor guy just didn't stand a chance
with all of that.  The other dogs were with us when he died, so we wrapped him in a sheet with his bowl,
and Sabrina just laid down beside his body to be close to him. 

I saged him twice and sang my Native American hymn for him.  They don't call me La Gringa Loca
for nothing.  We buried him in the side yard, and the kids painted his name on a cross they built
for his grave.    Anyway, I miss him so much.  Man, this is hard.

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This page was last updated on January 13, 2014
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