cobber

One of our two surviving dogs (since the death of our beloved yellow Lab Cobber) is a Cavalier.

Cobber's smell was not as universally endearing as his sound, although I always liked it.

By the end of the day, Cobber had won him over too, and it was that boy who walked Cobber out of the classroom to my wife's car.

A local vet recommended a new anti-inflammatory drug, and bought Cobber a last two months of active life.

He isolated himself, crossed his arms, refused even to look at Cobber.

No place here for an honest cop—not with elections coming up, cobber.

Perhaps that was what the police counted on—that Cobber would save them an arrest.

Cobber was a little man, but he was no stranger to violence and he had the weapons.

Cobber had been looking for a spy mechanism, a mechanical device in Jadiver's body.

Cobber, I already own a joint there—a nice one, they tell me.