A Second Chance at Love

"I swear to god if this bozo stands me up, I will burn this place to the ground."

Coco had gone on one date with Carlos, a sassy nail tech from the Lady's Day Salon, according to Coco, the first date had gone relatively well.

"He escorted me to dinner and took the liberty of ordering for the two of us, which I found sexist and piggish, but I let it slide. We each had a bottle of pinot noir followed by a carrot gazpacho garnished with crispy kale. It was cold, so I spit it out."

I sat near Coco and straightened up her towel. "But baby girl, gazpacho IS c--."

She interrupted me. "Are you done?"

"Yes," I said. "But ---"

"ARE you done?" she snapped.

"Yes. Please continue." 

"After we crushed the vino, we split a Long Island Iced Tea…with two straws…VERY romantic, though I would have preferred he got his own. With that, we snacked on Brussels sprouts and olives that came in our extra spicy Bloody Marys. Then he made some rude comment about my lack of clothing and suggested I was under dressed. Asinine, right? I thought only rich people wore fur. Regardless, I was P-O'd and asked him to call me an Uber."

I looked at her, dumbstruck. "Coco, I thought you said your first date went well. This sounds like a nightmare. I really don't want you seeing him again."

"Listen, mom. He's a boozer, I'm a boozer. Anyway, I'm only insisting on a second date so I can go straight Pretty Woman on his ass. I am prepared--this dress probably maxed out my credit card at a hefty $2.00, but after all it is Dolce and Gabunny. Plus, it makes my rump look fuller than Kim K's. He'll be dazzled and I'll break the Internet and his bank account."

There was a knock at the door. 

"That must be Carlos! Get my coat."

I shook my head, wrapped Coco in her shawl and carried her downstairs to the front door.

The Greatest (Freak) Show on Earth

"I know it's not customary for a child to tell her parent when she's decided to run away from home, but I'm telling you right now. I'm running away from home." Coco said from the windowsill.

I sat in a chair next to her table. "Coco, that hurts my feelings. I thought you and I had a wonderful relationship, and I love you so much."

"Yeah well...I don't care," she said. "You don't inspire me. I utterly feel drained in this life."

"But little girl, does this mean you're leaving home for good? Who will feed you baby carrots and mango treats? Who will brush you and fill your water bottle?" I knew there was no way Coco could survive in the wild. 

"I've tapped into a market where I think I can really thrive." Coco said confidently.

She ran her paw across her cheek. "I'm joining the circus and touring as The Bearded Lady. I got the idea from that great tv show with Kathy Bates." 

I laughed out loud. "Sorry Cokes, but I'm not sure you qualify as a lady."

"Not sure I qualify as a lady? I've got eight nipples. I'm more woman than you'll ever be."

Unsure of how that was a low blow, I accepted her insult.

"You and I were meant to be together forever. But now our time in this world must end." Coco said.

"Cokes, did you just quote Misery?? You are such a little thespian!", I said. "Well, if you feel you must go, then I suppose you must...although, I wonder who will unscrew your vodka bottle caps and pop your champagne corks. Maybe you do need me after all..."

She rested her chin on her left paw, "The life of a carny is a life of booze and dazzling crowds. I'll be swimming in liquor and rounds of applause." Coco motioned with her ears out the window. "Plus, I won't have far to go, you can supply the alcohol for me and my carnival freak show friends." 

I looked out the window at a red and white striped umbrella someone had left open near a small tree. Realizing that Coco had mistaken this small prop as a circus tent, I packed her a Ziploc baggie with spinach leaves, a baby carrot and an airplane bottle of Captain Morgans and wished her luck. She'd be back inside by happy hour.

Rabbit Unraveled

I've been under the weather for the past few days, while Coco has been in rare form. Partying for nights on end, blasting everything from Iron Maiden to Dolly Parton on a tiny boombox I picked up for her at the thrift store, and emptying enough bottles to stock a liquor store.

This afternoon I rolled off the couch and grabbed a handful of parsley to feed Coco something that wasn't liquid. When I walked in, Coco was half asleep and the window screen was ripped open. 

"What in the world is going on, Cokes? What happened to the screen?"

"Ease up, Ma. It's Devil's Night. I was out on the roof pranking the neighborhood, covering their pathetic yards with your last rolls of TP."

I shook my head. "Oh great, so there's no TP in the house? Thanks Coco. Appreciate it. Also, please note that Devil's Night takes place at night, and it's not for another month."

"Yeah well, it makes me happy to know that someone in this house is going to get caught on the toilet with no place to go," Coco laughed. "My work here is done. Bada bing, bada boom."

Her eyes began to close. "Every rose has it's thorn, just like every night has its dawn..."

I put her parsley on the table. "Are you singin' a little Poison, honey pie?"

"Just like every bunny sings a sad, sad song..."

"Sleep it off Coco." I said, reaching to lower the blinds. 

When I looked out the window, I saw that Coco had only TP'd the tree in our front yard.

I headed downstairs to grab a step ladder while Coco snored, surrounded by souvenirs. 

Salon Paws

"This is by far, the worst spa treatment I have ever received in my life," Coco said as I wrapped her in a warm towel. 

We had just finished up her leg stretch and thigh massage session, and now it was time for a little warm relaxation.

"Girly, you've never been to a day spa that wasn't owned and operated by yours truly." 

I've been trying to make a habit of pampering Coco lately with daily coat brushing and back rubs.

"Shows what you know, idiot. Back in '93 I was employed at a little joint called 'Golden Fingers.' I found the gig thumbing through the want ads in the paper, and figured it was perfect for me considering their willingness to hire just about anyone. 'WE HIRE ANYONE' was the only description under the listing."

I let out a long sigh.

Coco kicked me from under the towel. "As I was saying, I showed up for the interview that never took place, and next thing you know they have me hopping back and forth on the backs of hairy business men, misting them with essential oils. I don't know, it all smelled like urine to me. But anyway, fortunately they had towels lain across their asses, because I had a tendency to slip through the cracks if you catch my drift."

It was useless to argue, and her eyes were beginning to close. "Wow Coco, why on earth did you ever leave such a fantastic job?" 

"Some fatso with a Micky D's franchise pinched my tail on his way out. The next time he came in for a massage, I bit his nipple clear off. Not surprisingly...I was given a warning. But then they caught me stealing money from the tip jar the following week, so I was fired."

"Well Cokes, you do have a pretty rough track record with staying employed, so this doesn't exactly surprise me. Anyway my darling, just relax and try to enjoy yourself. You deserve the pampering." I bent over and kissed her forehead.

"Doesn't this shit come with bottomless mimosas or something?" Coco said, her eyes still closed.

I laughed. "How could I be so unaccommodating? Coming right up, madame."

Special Delivery

"Coco, I found something in the mailbox this morning that has you written all over it, literally."

I tossed a bulky envelope onto my bed where Coco happened to be sitting. She bent down and bit it. "Yep, that's mine alright. Damn it, I forgot the stamp."

"Hmm, well girly, this weighs a little too much for just one stamp. May I ask what's inside?"

Coco took a deep breath and exhaled. "I spent a full day eating bananas and drinking Jack Daniel's so that I could hand-select my largest pieces of poop. Some are wet and smelly and some are dry and hard like peppercorns. I would imagine there are close to 300 pieces inside that envelope, but I also included a handwritten note that reads, 'Eat my shit.'" 

"Coco, I am very proud of you for taking this kind of initiative. And though the letter was obviously never going to make it past our front door, your intentions were very good. I think this merits a toast, don't you?"

"Yes, mama. It does. I will allow you to have one shot of my liquor, but I get the rest of the bottle."

"Coco, you know what drinking too much whiskey does to your insides. I will not be happy to clean your litter box at the end of the day."

"Don't worry about that, we'll just use another envelope and try again."

Home Sweet Home

"Uh, yeah. I'm gonna need about 16 feet o' plywood, a few panes of glass, some super glue, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a pint of vodka, no ice."

Coco began a little remodeling work on her condo (cardboard box) this morning, and she was on a serious mission.

"You've left me to lounge in this empty piece of crap, so the least you can do is supply me with a few tools to finish up this skylight."

I nodded. "Sure, no problem girly. What else do you plan on doing to the joint?"

"Well, right now it looks like shit. That's easy to see, and of course I blame you for that. So, I'd like you to pay for an 8-person hot tub, probably a 30" plasma flat screen, a stripper pole, and a full-sized refrigerator stocked with booze."

I reached into the cardboard box through a hole I had cut into the side. "Hmm...I don't know Coco, doesn't seem like you're going to have enough room in this box for all the things you want. You might need to scale back a little bit."

She laughed. "You are so simple minded."

Coco hopped out of the box and pulled out a measuring tape. "I figure if we knock down these two walls here and extend my space, oh say, 15-20 feet everything will easily fit."

I kissed her furry nose. "But Coco, you're basically saying you want to put a hot tub where my bed is right now. I won't have any space in the room at this rate. Will you at least let me snuggle up with you in your new posh pad?"

She shook her head no. "I'll let you purchase access passes for the hot tub when I feel like it, but you're going to have to sleep outside. I want this room to look and feel like the back stage area of a Motley Crue show in '86. Losers not welcome."

Rock n' Roll Bunny

"So what, you think you're better than me now?"

This was the response I got from Coco when I told her a girl who works at Trader Joe's asked me to play guitar in an all-girl punk rock band she's putting together.

"Yeah well, I'm a girl. I love to rock. And I can drink Tommy Lee under the table. So why haven't you asked me to join yet?" Coco said matter-of-factly.

"Cokes, I just met this girl! At least let me get a feel for things before I bring up your name as a potential member. What can you play anyway, the keyboard?"

"The keyboard? The key-board? Are you kidding me? Honestly, look at me...LOOK. AT. ME. Do you think someone who looks like this should be sitting on a shitty stool behind a keyboard?"

I was perplexed. Was Coco trying to say that the keyboard is a nonsensical instrument for her to play considering her 6-inch wingspan, or did she view it as an inferior instrument? 

"Coco, some pretty awesome women play the keys...Tori Amos, Holly Laessig, Alia O'Brien...Girly, you should be proud to play!"

Coco stood on top of her cage and leaned over the edge, spitting on the floor. "Yeah, well you know who else plays the keys? ALICIA Keys. And she sucks."

"Ok, a little harsh, but I catch your drift." I bent down with a tissue to wipe up Coco's saliva. "Then what role would you like to have in the band?" 

"How is this not obvious? I was born to be a front woman. I have the charisma, uniqueness, nerve and talent. I have the voice of a siren and I've already planned my outfit for the spotlight."

I smiled, "Well, I have heard you sing before and you are quite talented." 

I gave her a little pat on the head. "What would you wear for the opening show?"

"I will be center stage behind a mic stand like the one my muse Steven Tyler uses (with tiny scarves tied to it), and I will wear black leather pants that lace up the sides...you know, real sexy like. I will also have on a sleeveless leather vest and biker hat. I'll need to wear sunglasses from the time I enter the venue 'til the time I exit, as I want no one to make eye contact with me."

I laughed, "Coco, that is a very elaborate outfit my honey bunny. It almost sounds like Rob Halford might be your muse as well."

"You know what, you're right." she said. "I do have a lot of respect for Rob. For you, on the other hand, I have absolutely no respect. Oh yeah, and you're out of the band."

Channeling Anger

"Gather my black robes, the white candles and for god's sake lower the damn blinds." Coco barked.

I've learned not to ask many questions during these times, as I have become keenly perceptive to the preparation demands for Coco's biannual seances. 

"Do you need your Ouiji board, sweet girl?" I asked.

"Of course I do, numbnuts. How else am I supposed to receive answers from the beyond?"

I grabbed Coco's items and lit a smudge stick to purify the room. The sage smoke billowed around her cage and filled the air with a lovely scent.

"Extinguish that crap. It smells like your hair when we snuggle, and it's gross," Coco snapped.

I opened a window and turned on the ceiling fan. Coco sat within a circle she had formed by pushing her litter away from her feet.

"Do you have any paint? I want to draw a pentagram." Coco held up one of my makeup brushes.

"No pentagrams, Coco." I said. 

She threw the brush behind my dresser, lowered her head and chanted, "Meka leka hi meka hiney ho! With our powers combined, I'm livin' on a prayer!"

"Coco, what's with the mish-mash of pop references?" I asked.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I was pretty much hoping lightning would strike you through the window or something like that. But screw it, this crap never works. Come close to me so I can slap you around a little bit."

I sighed. "Just lie down and take a nap cranky pants. I'll fix you a Tom Collins for your snack when you wake up."

"Fine, but how about one little slap before you go."

I leaned in and let her backhand me. Then Coco fell asleep.

Movie Night

Coco and I decided to spend the evening at home watching Batman movies. I ordered some Thai food and we sipped on ginger beers. Coco usually likes to sit on my lap when we have movie nights, but she has a special seating arrangement for superheroes flicks.  

"I love the Penguin," Coco said. "He's short and fat, and he reminds me of you."

I laughed...sort of. "Coco, that's not very nice. Why can't you say I remind you of Catwoman? I really like her outfit and she's way cooler than the Penguin."

She sipped her ginger drink. "Ok, ok fine...You know, I also really like Poison Ivy. She's quite beautiful with her fiery hair."

"I know Cokes! It's funny how I dyed my hair red recently, and it's almost the same color!"

Coco nodded. "True, very true. And yet, when I think of you it's Bane that comes to mind almost immediately."

I crossed my arms. "Wow girl, you're really sassy when you haven't had any booze to drink."

"What are you talking about dumdum? I'm drinking beer right now." Coco held up her drink, chugged it and dropped the glass on the floor. The ice cubes slid under my bed.

"There's no alcohol in ginger beer, Coco. It's basically just pop."

"Pop? As in soda? You mean I'm sober? Well...that means you tricked me, and therefore...you. must. die."

I handed Coco a double shot glass, filled it to the top with tequila, and watched her throw it back.

She held the tiny glass out and waited for me to pour. "It's gonna take at least three more of these for you to keep your life...Penguin." 

Special Delivery

"Marco called me..."

I was shocked. "Marco?! As in your ex, Marco?"

"That's the one. Never thought I'd hear from that asshole again. But I suppose, love works in mysterious ways."  

I was concerned. Marco had broken her heart in the past. I wasn't sure if she should be in communication with him. "Well, what are you going to do? Didn't he move to California?"

Coco was lying on the windowsill, lapping bourbon from a tiny bowl with ice cubes in it. She got up to face me, but was a little wobbly on her feet. "He did move to California. Sunny, beautiful, perfect California. He told me they serve drinks in coconuts out there. There's a bar near his apartment that has frozen booze that comes in all the colors of the rainbow."

"Wow, Coco. That does sound right up your alley...but I can make you colorful boozy drinks right here at home!"

She dipped her head and took a big gulp of bourbon. "Yeaaaah...well. I don't care. I need a man."

"Oh Coco..." I shook my head. "Well, what did Marco say on the phone?"

"He wants me to fly to Cali and visit him."

"Wow...So when's the flight? What airline did he use to book your ticket?"

Coco hiccuped. "Well, he didn't buy me a ticket. He doesn't have the money right now, but if I get myself out there, he said he'd pay for my baby carrots and alcohol. So I'm going."

"I don't get it. You don't have enough money for a plane ticket either, and I am NOT footing the bill. If he wants you to visit him so badly he's gotta come up with the money." I told Coco, finally putting my foot down.

"Oh would you lighten up!? I only weigh 5 pounds. If you wrap me up in this paper and poke holes in a box, you can ship me to the west coast in a few days. Just pack me some snacks and a flask and it'll be smooth sailing."

"Coco. It's not happening."

Coco raised her paws toward the ceiling. "I'M COMING MARCO! WAIT FOR ME!!!"

A Little Pick Me Up

"Do you love me?" 

"Coco, of course I do. You are the light of my life and my best friend. I would do anything for you." I said.

"How much money do you have?" Coco asked.

"Well...times are a little tight right now since the layoff," I said to Coco as I folded a pile of clean laundry. "I'm doing my best. I have some money saved, but I'm trying to be smart about spending." 

"That is very interesting. I am really proud of your level of self control." Coco said slowly and unconvincingly. "I think you and I are a lot alike," she continued. "For example. I've grown much more conservative with my alcohol consumption lately. I'm down to a bottle of booze a day, where normally I would aim higher."

"Well Coco, that is certainly good to hear. I think you have a tendency to let drinking rule your life, and let's be honest, you're 8 1/2 years old. The less booze you drink the longer we will inevitably be together, and that is just wonderful in my opinion."

"Interesting. 'Less booze.' Right. Suuuure. Terrific. So...the money. Would you say you have enough if, for instance, I ever had to go to the doctor?" Coco asked.

"Well of course! Whatever you need girly. I've got you covered...are you not feeling well? Should I call the vet and make an appointment?" 

"Actually, I've already made an appointment. I mean hey, like you said, I'm 8 1/2 years old. I'm not what you would call a 'young bun' anymore. But it's good you have that money set aside for me, because I've been considering some options to appear more youthful."

"What do you mean?" I asked skeptically. 

"What I mean is that I made an appointment to 'freshen up' if you will." Coco said matter-of-factly.

"How so and how much?" I began to sweat as I recalled that Coco has no concept of money nor common decency. "Tell me now, Coco. Or I'm pouring your vodka down the sink."

"Ok ok! I'm getting a small face lift. A minor procedure. You and I both know I can't stop drinking, so I was thinking that if I appear more youthful I will probably live at least 15-20 more years."

I shook my head. "Oh Coco. You are already perfect. Don't need to get a face lift, I love you just the way you are."

As I hugged her and rubbed my nose into her cheek, she said, "Your 401k is cashed. Just let it go. It's over."

Move Over Patrick Duffy

"I really think you and I should consider one more shot at going into business together," Coco said as I flipped through some TV channels. 

"What kind of business?" 

A few years back, Coco tried to convince me that we should start a landscaping company. When we went to speak with a potential investor, Coco told the gentleman that the children in his framed desk photo looked like 'stunt doubles for Leprechaun.' She then proceeded to fertilize his potted plant, and shortly thereafter we were escorted out of the building.

Coco nodded slowly as if she were working out the process in her head. "I was thinking we could buy our own ice cream truck. It should be a very lucrative endeavor if we follow my strategic 'Step-by-Step' plan."

"Oh really, Cokes? Do tell."

Coco cleared her throat. "Step 1: We buy an ice cream truck. Step 2: We play the music. Step 3: We get the money." She looked at me very proudly as if she had just divulged the most ingenious of plans.

My head fell to a tilt. "I don't get it."

"What don't you get?"

I leaned forward and placed the remote on the coffee table. "How do we make money? What about the ice cream? What's the plan?"

"Did you live under a rock in the 90s? Have you not seen Step by Step? It was Suzanne Somers' tour de force--a really inspirational show. The message is damn clear if you listen: 'We'll make it better...the second time around.' That song is about us."

"Coco. What the hell are you talking about?"

"Listen, I don't have time to explain this to you. You're an idiot and you're wasting my valuable drinking time."

Put on Your Party pANTS

I fell asleep on the couch last night, because I was up late working on a project. When I went upstairs this morning to feed Coco, she looked wrecked and so did my room.

"Coco! What happened??? My room is totally destroyed and you look terrible."

"I had a party last night. Quit freaking out. Just a few friends. A few bottles of Jack...NOT a huge deal."

"Ok, well why does it smell like a haunted house in here?" I asked.

"I brought out your old fog machine and fired up the strobe lights you got at that yard sale. The ants loved it."

"Ants?" I started looking around the room frantically.

"Yeah, well. No one showed up to my party except me, so I opened the window and let a few thousand baby ants in the house. I poured out some whiskey on the floor and the ants got HAMMERED!" Coco exploded into laughter. "It...was...awesome!"

Still scrambling to find the thousands of ants that apparently partied in my room last night, I considered the thought that Coco was making it up--or she had just drunkenly imagined it.

"Ok baby. Well listen, I'm glad you had fun last night with your "ant friends," but I'm going to clean up a bit and run some errands. You relax and try to sleep off that hangover." I kissed her head and walked to the door.

"Good thinking," Coco said. "I'll catch some Zs. That's exactly what the ants are doing in your bed."

s

Lie Like an Egyptian

"Come outta your cage girly, I want to show you something!" I yelled to Coco from across the room.

"No. Not a chance. But I will allow you to bring me a cheese plate with those big grapes on it, too. I like those. And I will also allow you to feed them to me...one by one...until I am full."

"Oh come on Cokes," I pleaded. "You won't get up for your own mother?"

"I'm not getting up from this position for anyone, especially my own mother. I'm practicing my destiny's pose."

"Is that a new yoga position, my fluffy darling?" I got up to move closer to her. 

"No moron. My real future, without you. In Egypt, they will call me Cocopatra. My people will erect a gigantic sculpture in my honor among the pointy houses, and I will be lying like this. I saw it myself on the Internet."

"Coco, you are no doubt a queen in my eyes, but what makes you think you are destined for this kind of worship?"

"If you must know, I've been talking to King Tut on Twitter. He said he's shy, but I know the real him. He said he would worship me, and I would be his goddess. Plus, he has over 100,000 followers, so I'm sure he could get them to follow me too."

"What???? Coco...please tell me you're not talking to sexual predators on the Internet."

"He's not a sexual predator, he's my ticket out of this hell hole."

"Coco you're hurting my feelings, and besides we both know you don't know how to type or spell. Why should I believe any of this?"

She smirked, "I kicked the living shit out of Timmy O'Houlihan again and forced him to make me an account and do the typing for me."

"Coco, Timmy O'Houlihan is six years old. And just so you know, Timmy wandered over here this morning and told me everything. I just wanted to see if you would be honest with me. Now I'm going to call his mother to apologize."

She narrowed her eyes, "Don't bother. Timmy is a dead man."

Inked Out

"Hey Ma, get over here. I need you to shave me." 

"Coco, why would you want to be shaved? I think your natural fur looks beautiful."

"I have an appointment for a tattoo removal session tomorrow, and I need to be as bald as a baby chicken for this thing. I'd rather be shaved at home than in the shop."

This was the first time I had ever heard Coco mention tattoos.

"How was I not aware that you had tattoos, and why are now deciding to get them removed?"

"My ex-lover had a tattoo removed after the TV show Jersey Shore gained popularity. I think he was tired of people shouting 'Hey! Pauly D!'" Coco said. "I have a few regrettable ones, and I think it's time to get rid of them."

I reached up to smooth out her puffy cheeks. "Coco, if you really want me to shave you, I will. I just want you to know that I'm not happy about this...what are these tattoos, anyway?

"When I was 3 years old, I got my first tattoo of a green caterpillar crawling up my left paw. A year later I got a turtle eating a bowl of cereal on my right side. On my left side I have a tattoo of a rabbit skull and a portrait of Estelle Getty of the famed, Getty Images on Google."

"Coco, Estelle Getty is a Golden Girl, not the namesake of a photo stockpile. Are you serious!?"

Coco threw me a sassy look. "Shave me and I guess you'll find out."

I felt a bit defeated. "I'm actually considering doing this for you, but I must insist that you sleep on it. I want you to be 100% sure you wanna do this."

She frowned. "I'm positive. Plus, I wanna get all these tattoos removed so I can start a full body piece."

"A full body piece?! Of what?"

"I want to get horizontal lines and full brown shading so I look like a loaf of bread."

I shook my head and left the room.

An Eruption

"Nyah....nyah! Unnnnngh. Unnng. Nyah...          Maaaaaaaahm!"

I heard Coco yelling to me from the open window to my room. I dropped my spade and my gardening gloves onto the lawn and yelled up to her, "I'm coming baby!" 

I ran up the stairs and finally stood before her.

Coco had a look of utter defeat on her face. "I'm pushing...but nothing is coming out. I'm backed up like Bill Gates' hard drive. I'm packed with more logs than Lincoln's cabin."

I took her food dish out of the cage. "So you're constipated, Coco?"

"Did you not hear me? I'm wrecked. I'm completely bloated and cramped to hell."

"Do you want me to get you some prune juice with a splash of vodka?"

Coco looked up at me. "Double up on the vodka and we have a deal. Anything to get this bat outta hell, because I'm sittin' here like Meatloaf."

I reached into the cage and gently rubbed Coco's belly. "My my! You are awfully silly when you can't go poo poo, little girl."

"Don't you dare patronize me...because Mt. Vesuvius will erupt again, and I will aim for the walls."

July 3rd

"I'm outta here, sucker! And don't try to find me," Coco yelled as I walked in the room.

"Ha! Nice flag, Coco. Did you steal that from the 7-Eleven?" I jabbed back.

"Actually I stole it from the neighbor's yard, idiot. But that lady is like...100 years old or something. She'll never notice it's gone." Coco laughed hysterically.

"So, why are you 'outta here' as you so plainly put it?" I leaned in to pet her cheek, I could smell the vodka. 

"It's Independence Day. It's the g-damn 4th of July. And I'm leaving you. It's time I went out on my own, because I've proven that I can be independent." She held her head up high, looking rather majestic.

"Coco, it's July 3rd. And Independence Day is not a time for you to leave home unless you really think you're ready. Are you sure you want to go?"

She nodded. "I'm sure."

I tapped her toe with my finger. "I just replenished the liquor..."

Coco licked my hand. "Get out my sweatpants. We're partying tonight!!!"