In Memory of Koda
Koda arrived in early spring, at a time when the house had grown a little too quiet.
Denise hadn’t planned on bringing a dog home that day. It was supposed to be a quick visit… just to look, just to pass the time. But Koda made that decision feel less like a choice and more like something that had already been set in motion. He didn’t rush forward like the others. He stepped carefully, looked directly at her, and held that look long enough to make everything else fade out for a moment.
That was how it started.
Life with Koda never settled into something predictable. He had a way of turning even the simplest part of the day into something active. If the house grew too still, he would change it. A leash placed at Denise’s feet. A door nudged open just enough to be noticed. A quiet insistence that it was time to go outside, even when there wasn’t a clear reason why.
And once he was outside, that same energy carried forward.
His first real winter revealed something unmistakable about him. After a heavy snowfall, when the yard was buried deep and untouched, Koda didn’t hesitate for long. He tested the surface once or twice, then launched himself forward and vanished beneath it. For a moment, there was nothing. Then he burst back out several feet away, snow flying, eyes bright, immediately diving again. Over and over, as if he had discovered something worth chasing just beneath the surface.
Then there was the lake. Traverse City is within driving distance of MANY lakes. But “The” Lake means Lake Michigan of course. And the beautiful bay carved out from it named after the city they called home.
On a quiet evening, with the water nearly still, Koda stood at the edge watching a small group of ducks drift across the surface. He didn’t bark or pace. He simply walked in. Step by step, steady and focused, until he was swimming out farther than Denise had ever seen him go. When the ducks finally lifted off, just out of reach, he stopped. Turned. And came back the same way he had gone out… like the moment had been completed exactly as intended.
As the years went on, that same sense of direction never left him. He became more selective, more deliberate, but never disconnected from what was happening around him. If Denise stayed inside too long, he would find a way to change that. If something felt unfinished, he seemed to notice.
In October of 2023, Koda’s time came to a close.
On his final morning, he stepped outside and paused in the yard, looking out across the same space he had crossed countless times before. He was slower now and walked with a limp. But his mind wa still sharp and attentive. No confusion. He took one last long, steady look, as if taking in something familiar one last time.
Then he turned and followed Denise into the car.
Koda didn’t simply move through life quietly. He shaped it in small, undeniable ways… starting things, shifting moments, and leaving behind a pattern that doesn’t quite fade, even though now he’s gone.
