Dog of the Blogoversary: Coco the Black-Mouth Cur Puppy

Woot! Five years of adorable puppydogs! I don’t promise to be here for another five, but I’m not bored of dogs yet, so I’ll be posting for a while, I think. (It’s actually been a couple days since the anniversary of the start of regular posting, but who’s counting, right?)

And here’s the other half of the set: Coco the 4-month-old black-mouth cur pup. I am assured that she and Jessie haven’t met. Well, maybe they’ll get lucky. I wonder if there’s a black-mouth play-date meetup group or something.

Black-Mouth Cur Puppy

That’s a cute face. You could get away with a lot with a face like that.

Black-Mouth Cur Puppy Sniffing Someone's Hand

That’s my brother’s hand. He was visiting and we were wandering around San Francisco when we ran into Coco, and he graciously didn’t object to my dog-picture-taking obsession.

Black-Mouth Cur Puppy Being Petted

Coco was a visitor to the city, from somewhere relatively close by, if I recall correctly.

Black-Mouth Cur Puppy Being Petted And Sniffing Someone's Hand

That, on the other hand, is my hand. Coco was not satisfied with a mere one admirer.

Black-Mouth Cur Puppy Being Petted And Sniffing Someone's Hand

Just a hint of concerned-forehead-wrinklage.

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3 Responses to Dog of the Blogoversary: Coco the Black-Mouth Cur Puppy

  1. Sandy says:

    Congratulations on your blogversary!! I hope that you and Autumn will be able to have your own dog one of these days, but don’t stop blogging until you tell us when this happens please : )

  2. Denise says:

    She’s beautiful! I had a gorgeous BM cur who passed after nearly 19 extraordinary years of her by my side, everywhere I went. (We didn’t live in San Fan, but in Oregon and she’d been to SF with me once before). It wasn’t until she was in her last few months did I really determine she was at least a mix heavy with the BMC lineage. But her muzzle was not so black, her eyes were lined like Cleopatra, black sweeping out past the edges of her eyes. She was the sweetest, smartest, funniest, most athletic dog I ever had. She did everything outdoors we did, even white water rafting, had her own life jacket. She absolutely adored children and if she heard one laughing or making baby sounds nearby she’d whip her her head around and whine, looking for that baby. When toddlers approached her, she would immediately sit or even lay down so they could pet her. She seemed to know that she had to be gentle and submissive with them, get down on their level. At the coast one day, lots of kids around and after hours of romping with them, she lay down next to me in the sand and sun. The kids quieted down around her, too. Then, as she lay on her side but not asleep, they slowly, gently began burying her in the sand. Every bit of her up to her neck was buried. She didn’t make a move, except her eyes. She absolutely loved ten little hands piling up warm sand over her body. I couldn’t believe it. The kids squealed in amazment once she was all covered and moving only her eyes. What a crack up!! That’s how sweet and patient and gentle and fun loving she was. When we would hike, she never, ever pooped or peed on the trail. Lady-like, she took her business into the woods. She loved hiking and would run up the trail ahead of us beyond our sight and then run back full speed, directly at us on the narrow trail. But just when you thought she was going to crash right into your legs, she made a split second maneuver around you. The first time any of our friends was her victim of this (she never, ever did this to strangers on the trail), they nearly fell over trying to get out of her way. Joke on them. She literally came within inches of knocking me over a couple of times until I realized she was an expert pilot, in complete control and could turn in an instant. She was basically messing with us. When she was a teenage dog, she’d get out of the yard once in a while. Then I’d get in the car, my husband on foot, going around our neighborhood yelling our lungs out for her. About the second or third time around the block, I’d get within a house or two of ours and see her, right across the street in our neighbor’s yard, standing perfectly still, watching us go crazy looking for her for a hal- hour. Her fawn-coloring helped her literally blend into the scenery. But once I spotted her, our eyes locked and I’d yell MEEKO!!, she’d go from 0-60 and bolt right across two yards to our front door, and I’d get there and she’d be in this submissive position on her back, cowering as if she was gonna get a beating. I’ve never laid a finger on her, of course. But she new how to work it. Everyone adored her. If we travled and couldn’t take her for some reason, friends would fight over keeping her while we were gone. God I miss that dog. She was my girl. Never had another dog like her and never met a dog like her and probably never will again. Sigh….I do go on…but I could write a book about her antics and our adventures together, she and I spending half a day driving from beach to beach on the Oregon coast from from Florence up to Yachats and back, most times having every beach we stopped at to ourselves. Okay, okay, I was gonna launch into about three more stores but I’ll stop. I know there are other outstanding ones like her out there. I’ve even met a couple of dogs who could have been her twin. Their owners described theirs as having very similar dispositions to hers and even one guy I met whose dog looked like Meeko’s clone–female, same age, same white markings.–he got a little dewey-eyed, waxing poetic about his girl pup. I’ve concluded that Black-mouthed (Yellow-Meeko didn’t have that nose-dipped-in black-ink look, just black lips, nose and gorgeous blackeye-liner) Curs, and any mixed breeds with dominant Cur, seem to be very special dogs. They’re absolutely gorgous inside and out. I’d consider anyone who has one in their life to be lucky, indeed. I miss her so much. I’ve never been this gushy about a pet. But when she died, the vet unexpectedly sent me her ashes in this kitchy paper-weight thing made from her ashes with apparently her paw print in it. I just wanted her ashes back. However, I scraped some off into dust, bought a beautiful, small crystal globe neck pendant, and put some of her ashes in that to wear discreetly around my neck on a sterling chain. (Pssst…don’t tell anyone!) Thanks for letting me gush. Now I’m gonna go have a good cry.

    • Adam Lang says:

      My gosh. It sounds like you had an amazing pup there. (And yes, I did read all of that, and would have been happy reading more!) And it sounds like you were amazingly lucky to have had her for so long… it’s not often that a medium-sized or larger dog makes it to 18 years old!

      But, of course, that’s not a consolation, because it’s all the more devastating when you finally do lose the pup.

      Are there any pictures of her online? If so, please post some links in a comment here! If not, maybe put a couple of pictures up on an image sharing site, such as, and share some links? We’d love to see her!

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