My life forever changed on January 21, 2020, in all ways I could not fathom then. On that day, a girl rescued multiple times from unspeakable situations and then lovingly fostered came to live with me. Unsure of me and wondering what next would happen to herself, I remember as the rescuer drove away from us in Des Moines. Lyla wanted to go with her. Someone she had been with for a few days. Here she was, again, with a stranger and no idea what her life would hold at any minute moving forward. We walked back inside, went up the elevator, and returned to her new home.

Lyla Ann Coe became my daughter and I became her dad. Her trust was understandably not instant, and I worried she did not like me. For the first three months, she did not make any sounds except for the occasional bark in her sleep. At bedtime, I would place her next to me at the top of the bed and she would then move herself to the end of the bed. I would then move to the end of the bed, and she would then move to the top of the bed. This continued for several months until I woke up one morning with Lyla sleeping right next to me, with her eyes closed and her outstretched hand touching me. Finally, she knew she was safe.

As a city girl, Lyla enjoyed all the sights and sounds of living downtown. In her younger years, she enjoyed walking around downtown, endlessly walking through revolving doors throughout the office buildings, climbing stairs, and enjoying the pocket park behind the Starbucks where she was never sure if the owl figure was real or fake. She looked at that owl every so often to detect any movement. When she would spot a squirrel, the sounds she would make made me smile. When she spotted a rabbit, she did not want to eat the rabbit but wanted to befriend the rabbit. The same is true with cats. She loved cats. Lyla always gently approached cats and tried to take naps with them. When Lyla and I would check in on our cat neighbor Pennoyer, she would carefully approach Pennoyer. Pennoyer came to tolerate Lyla resting next to her for short periods of time.

When it came to children, Lyla was always gentle and excited. She loved kids. Once, two little girls started to take food out of her bowl when she was eating. As I ran over to stop what I thought would be a disastrous situation illustrated Lyla – connection. She knew the two girls wanted to be with her. She stepped back, laid down, and let the girls feed her. Nothing more, nothing less.

Lyla was very shy when we first met. I wanted her to know that the world was hers and I was there to make her happy. She thankfully went from only telling me when she needed to use the bathroom to standing over me, looking me in the eyes, and pawing at me to wake up. What did she need? Sometimes to use the bathroom. Other times she wanted a snack. And more often than not, she wanted me to scoot over so she could rest next to her other dad, Kevin Boeckholt, who she knew would rub her stomach for as long as she demanded. I must mention that I promised her a second dad when I got her and Kevin quickly became her dad.

I liked to say Lyla was demanding, but not in a way that was mean or rude. Demanding in a way where she was assertive. She was assertive because she grew to know what she wanted. You see, during the pandemic we spent all of our time together. Work part of the days, sleep part of the days, walks around downtown at 2:00 a.m. We did it together. We were always together.

Her assertiveness increased as she aged and became comfortable. She did not like staying at home when I went to the office, which is where her job as a greeter behind the front desk of the Mo’Tail and Spa at Paws & Pints came into play. Lyla first tolerated being around other dogs because the staff would place her on a high bed where she could rest and observe the other dogs playing. Eventually, she made her way to the front desk and would not leave. If she was put in daycare, she would scream like a human until she was put back up front behind the desk in what became known as “Bay 4” with her picture on a sign. She loved Paws & Pints. The people made her happy. Lyla would confidently walk into the building, quickly went behind the desk, and waited while her bed and water were fetched. She would then cuddle with staff, tolerate some dogs, eat turkey meatballs, and nap. Every day I went to get her after work; she would see me and start making sounds of joy. She would then push the gate behind the desk open and come directly to me. Excited. Full of love. Experiences I never thought would end.

Kevin always said he had never met a dog with a true personality, especially not a human personality like Lyla’s. She always said what she wanted and I tried to make sure it happened. In her later months, I cooked her two chicken breasts of the highest quality every single night. I would then use a shredder to ensure the chicken size met her specifications. Watching and hearing her wait and then eat the chicken never became old. About five months ago chicken became her favorite. Why? For a week, someone downtown discarded chicken about one block from where we live. Since then, nearly every walk required us to go to the same block and check for any chicken. She thoroughly investigated no matter the temperature. Actually, the colder the weather, the happier she was. Another delicacy was sidewalk pizza. This is pizza that folks downtown would toss half-eaten into the mulched areas along the sidewalks. I never knew who would win when it came to extracting pizza from her mouth, but she won more often than not.

Lyla had a temperature she liked. 67 degrees. Sometimes the air conditioning would be going full speed in the cold months, or the windows would be open and the fireplace going at the same time. She could tell if the temperature was off by a single degree. When we could go to Kevin’s house, he too would ensure his entire house was at 67 degrees. We made sure we lived in Lyla’s world.

Lyla’s existence caused so much happiness. Strangers, neighbors, friends, and family all said she was special. Yes, she was special. She, I genuinely believe, came to me to care for, love always, and serve. She was funny. She would roll around on her back in one of her many beds and then jump up and smile. She was nearly always smiling. Her emotions were, truly, complex human emotions. Lyla was very intuitive. In all reality, Lyla cared for me. She truly made sure I was always okay.

In August 2024 and moving forward, Lyla was found to have an internal heart tumor and external heart tumor. Neither could be operated on for various reasons despite searching throughout the country. She also had various other health challenges. Specialists gave her months and then weeks and then days to live. She outlived every single specialist by approximately one year and five months. I truly thought she would live forever. Really, I did. What ended up happening was her heart became so enlarged she could not breathe properly. Her lungs were unable to fully work due to the largening size of her heart. Dr. Lisa Takes came to Lyla’s rescue so many times and kept her with me. Same day appointments, late night calls, and more. She saved Lyla’s life multiple times.

Something else about Lyla is her love of flowers and plants. We spent hours searching Earl May and other stores to create the best container garden on our patio. We spent hours on our patio enjoying the plants, flowers, neighbors, and each other. I loved watching her beautiful and insightful eyes take everything in and relax comfortably. Those are the moments I lived for.

Sometimes I will admit Lyla got behind the wheel of our car. She quickly preferred to sit in the back seat and be chauffeured. No matter the weather or temperature, all windows in the car had to be down at all times. Why? Because Lyla would walk back and forth to see the world as I drove. If the windows went up, she would vocalize her dismay, and the windows would go right back down. While freezing rain and snow sometimes poured through our windows, I did not mind. As long as Lyla was happy, I was happy.

Over the past several months, Lyla enjoyed puzzles and games. Treats were hidden inside and she would work her hardest to retrieve her prizes. She solved every puzzle and won every game. At first, she looked at me as if I were crazy to make her work for food, but she soon loved the challenge, and I watched her with a smile.

This obituary does not fully illustrate Lyla Ann Coe in any manner. It offers only a glimmer of who she was. She made me a better person in life. I mean that. While we do not have reliable records regarding Lyla’s birthday, it is believed she was born February 23, 2012, in Kentucky. That means she lived 13 years, 10 months, and 19 days. Together, Lyla and I had 5 years, 11 months, and 22 days together. Those 2,183 days with Lyla are the best of my life. You see, I am the lucky one here. I had the chance to care for my daughter. For my girl. For the lady who also came to be known as Ma’am. As she passed, I looked in her eyes while holding her head in my hands and said, “I love you, Lyla Ann Coe!”