Since the vet who ampawtated Cocoa's leg works nights, we haven't seen her since that first day. I've been wanting to let her know how Cocoa is doing, so "she" wrote her a letter today and sent some pictures.

Dear Dr. Pittman,

Hi. My name is Cocoa. You saved my life on February 14 when you volunteered to do my ampawtation.

I just wanted to let you know I’m doing great! I live *inside* a house with my mom, Susan, and a big sister, Gigi. She’s a small, furry poodle, but I adore her and will follow her anywhere. Sometimes she just wants to be alone, but I can tell I’m growing on her. I also have a Grandma who spoils with me with a treat every time she visits.

I have so many soft places to sleep. Mom’s friends wanted to help and have sent beds for me (and Gigi). I eat really fast (hey, when you live on the streets you never know where your next meal will come from!), so mom has figured out a few tricks to slow me down. I love cheese and don’t even mind when mom sneaks my medicine to me (she thinks she’s so smart, but I’m on to her!).

I stay in a crate while mom is at work, but get run of the house the rest of the time. Mom makes sure I have my toys and a couple treats before she leaves. When she comes home, mom props open the back door and I can go in and out as much as I like. Until it gets dark anyway. She worries about me running into skunks in the back yard. I’m not sure why.

I’ve learned that I love squeaky toys. I can hear mom laughing from the other room when I get to playing. She says my squeaking is music to her heart.

Mom has found a really helpful website for tripawds like me. That’s how she figured out to put down yoga mats to keep me from slipping on the wood floor. Someone from there also sent me some traction socks, but I’m not too sure about them. She says it will also help her figure out what kind of supplements I might need to help my joints.

Another one of her friends bought me a special harness with a “handle” so she can help me in and out of the car. We just started using it to walk around the neighborhood. I notice after one trip up and down the block that my back leg gets a little shaky, so we stop then. Mom says we’ll continue to build my strength and she found some physical therapy videos on that website we can use too.

I’ve noticed that I lick her a lot, but I just can’t think of a better way to say “thank you.” Next time we come see you, I’ll make sure to give you some extra-special licks for saving my life. People think you are generous and big-hearted for giving me a second chance at life. I am so thankful to be rid of that stupid leg and show everyone I can do (almost) anything any other dog can do. Maybe even faster!

In time, mom is going to look into training so I can be a therapy dog. She thinks I will be mighty inspirational to people who need some cheering up. I try to be pawsitive all the time!

I’ve included some pictures of my new life these past few weeks. I just wanted to let you see that I am doing ok and that I think mom is going to do everything she can to make sure my life is the best it can be.

Love, Cocoa