Dear Kobe, On Monday, 19 March, I took you out for your morning walk. You were unusually hesitant and eventually just sat down to the point that I had to coax you to walk back home. We immediately took you to the vet where they ran various tests and decided to keep you overnight for observation. We got bad news the next day. You were diagnosed with metastatic cancer of the spleen, liver and lung. They gave you about two days. We were in shock. Up to that morning you showed no physical or mental symptoms at all. But when we saw you at the hospital the next day you looked good and we decided to take you home. You gave us five more good weeks. You were still Kobe, doing all the things you always did but just tiring a bit sooner than usual. We gave you the best care possible and came to believe that you might be around for another 6 months. But on Sunday night, 22 April you took a dramatic turn for the worse, passing away peacefully at home early Monday morning, 23 April, surrounded by loving family. You never suffered. Our family including Mom Gloria Albeg, Sister Loren Albeg, Aunt Judy Updegraff and Rescuer Carol Roesel cannot find the words to thank you enough for your friendship and for all the wonderful years of your incredible life that you freely gave to us. You were such an important part of our family. We miss you so much. Playing soccer, playing basketball. playing tug-of-war. playing grab the ball, going to the beach, visiting friends and going to Newport Center. Mainly spending time with you. You were always there for us. It still hurts coming home to an empty house or being reminded by the clock that itÃÃ��â,Ã��â"Ã��s time to go for a walk, which you enthusiastically did twice a day. From early on we realized how special you were. We got you at about 4 months old and you never needed potty training. You would just sit by the door until being let out or walked. That was your modus operandi. When you were hungry, although indifferent to food throughout your 10 Ã,Ã�Ã�� years, or when you wanted some of what we were eating, you would walk over to and sit by your bowl. Sometimes you would bring your ball to the bowl to allow it to eat first. Other times you would attempt to trade your ball for food we ourselves were eating. You were always interested in what we were eating but never tried to take any of it. You rarely barked at all and would just provide us with nonverbal cues to whatever it was you wanted or needed. In reality you trained us and not the other way around. I never really wanted to train you anyway. Other than a few basic commands, mostly for your comfort and safety, I wanted you to just be yourself and to let your awesome personality come through. You learned these commands so fast. Only one or two iterations and youÃÃ��â,Ã��â"Ã��d have it. The following is an account of your early life and how you got to us. It was lovingly written by Aunt Judy. In the first line of David Copperfield, David raises the question of whether he will turn out to be the hero of his own life, or whether that station will be held by someone else. We truly believe that Kobe, like David, was the hero of his own life. "None of us knows how he got his start in life, but we do know that it was a harsh beginning. For us his story began in the plant nursery in Rainbow where my friend Carol was shopping. Carol looked down, and there was this beautiful puppy looking up at her. When she asked the lady who worked there, she was told that he did not belong to her, and that she refused to feed him or even give him a sip of water because that might cause him to stay there. Enough said about that. "Carol kept on shopping, and the dog took to following her around wherever she went. So why did he do that? We think he was a very smart puppy, and had already figured out that he needed help, and that he wasnÃÃ��â,Ã��â"Ã��t going to get that help at the nursery. Maybe Carol smelled good. Maybe she smelled like her own Bassett Hound, Sparky. We have no doubt that she gave him a pat, and maybe even talked to him. Somewhere during that exchange, he decided that she was his ticket out of there, so he kept trailing her. "When she finally went to the parking lot, she had only to open the back door of her huge Cadillac and he bounded in, laid down on the back seat and immediately went to sleep. She temporarily named him Baxter, and shortly thereafter brought him to JudyÃÃ��â,Ã��â"Ã��s gate. When JudyÃÃ��â,Ã��â"Ã��s husband H. let them in he ran right up to Kelly, their own German Shepherd. Though she was much bigger than him, much older than him, and it was her yard he was entering, he made friends with her instantaneously. Within seconds they were playing and chasing each other. His loving personality was so apparent right then and there. (A couple of days later Judy, who knew I was looking for a big dog, asked if I were interested in a German Shepherd. I answered in the negative because I didnÃÃ��â,Ã��â"Ã��t want a high maintenance dog. She invited us over for dinner that Sunday. As soon as I sat on the couch you came over and rested your head on my shoe. It was all over. The next thing out of my mouth was a question as to what German Shepherds eat. When you happily went home with us, we believe you knew you had arrived at a new life. We gave you a new name, Kobe, which later was modified to Kobe-wan Kenobe as we observed your grace and nobility. But to us and all your friends you were still always just plain Kobe.) "This is why we believe that he was the hero of his own life. He somehow persevered and survived the conditions of his early life, which to us means he had a strong and brave heart. He was searching for a way out of his circumstances, and was smart enough to recognize and seize the opportunity when it presented itself. In his new life, he gave at least as much love as he got, which we think was his way of saying thank you for the safe and happy life he was given. So to us, he joins David Copperfield, as he was truly the hero of his own life. Epilogue You know the rest of the story. By relieving us of the agony of making the decision to euthanize, even in death "he was the hero of his own life." Adios amigo. We will never forget you. We will meet again.