We said goodbye to our beloved Cooper today.

Cooper … aka Coopie, Dooper, Doopie, Boyzie, Good Boy, Declan (just to name a few) … passed away just six weeks shy of his fourteenth birthday, an extraordinary life for a dog his size. In the end, we don’t know exactly what he had … the assumption is some form of cancer … but he wasn’t happy anymore, and we could no longer keep him comfortable. Letting him go was the last loving thing we could do for him.

He loved big, and he loved all of us: SchwartzCentral, our extended family, our friends, and the twenty-eight foster children who came through our home. He was the original gentle giant … licking food off little faces, kissing dangling feet, and showing nervous kids that big dogs could be the safest place in the world. His favorite hobbies included photosynthesizing (sunbathing), resting his big goofy head on a lap or hand, and being as close as possible to his people. He was the consummate host … greeting guests at the driveway, walking them in, welcoming other dogs to come play, and even letting them stay awhile.

He was a traveler: countless trips to Pennsylvania to visit G/Bubby/Grandma Ada, adventures to Plainview’s dream backyard, as far north as Rhode Island for a stay with Sarah so the kids could visit them during session break from Ramah, and all the way south to Boynton Beach for nearly six weeks of sunshine, toddlers, lizards, birds, and flash rainstorms. He happily jumped in the car for carpools and airport runs, always ready for the ride. He adored the snow … less so the snowballs stuck to him … and his snowsuit let him enjoy every moment without complaint.

Cooper never fully recovered after losing his bonded sister, Lily, two and a half years ago. He tolerated his nephew Bamba and, more recently, his brother Otis, but they were not her, and he made that clear in his gentle, dignified way.

This truly feels like the end of an era. We brought Cooper home when our kids were 5, 7, 8, and 10. He has been with them for more than half their lives. We are heartbroken, but overwhelmingly grateful … for his steady presence, his softness, his protection, and the joy he gave us every single day.

Our good boy. Our gentle giant. We will miss you, Cooper, and we wouldn’t trade a single moment.