Cookie and Coco were litter-mates.
We went to the shelter, intending to get a dog. They were together in one cage. Together, they were meant to be and together, they would stay.
Yes, they were twice as much work but that was offset by them being twice as much love, loyalty, and fun. We never regretted having two.
They were great company for us and for each other. They provided us with so many hours of enjoyment as they played together.
One of their favorite games was chasing each other around the evergreens in our backyard. They would run around once and then change direction like they were unwinding after being wound too tight. Eventually one would run in one direction and the other would run in the other. When they met, they would do a chest bump.
When one was sick, the other would lay beside his or her companion, encouraging and sympathizing.
If one had to stay at the vet, the other would search the house, whining until they were rejoined.
Coco was a mama's dog and Cookie was his dog. He followed me everywhere; she followed him.
After 14 years of togetherness, she died three years ago in May and he was buried beside her two months later, together again for eternity.