Stories

Boy, You Better Find That Dog

We got to Old Mill Doodles in Staunton. Inside the barn was a pen with a passel of the cutest little furballs I had ever seen, all romping around and playing with each other. 

E had Pick of the Litter. 

There was one puppy who noticed her as soon as she came in the door. He sat and watched her, went back to playing, and would take a break and watched her more.

I said, "There is your puppy," before I could stop myself.

She picked him up. He nuzzled into her neck and closed his eyes. He was a perfect balance of playful and calm.

E inspected every puppy in the litter, but always returned to this little guy. When she looked at other puppies, he always kept his eyes on her. He chose her, and she chose him. She named him Cooper.

A few weeks later, I went with her to pick Cooper up. The first house he visited was my house. So much for that line in the sand. I watched them together, went for walks with them, took him out about every thirty minutes, and fell head over heels in love with the "damn dog." I was sad when she took him home to Newport News.

E brought him back for Christmastime. Bill and Sylvia, Kady's parents, were there too. It was a crowded house, but Cooper fit in well and had some fun playtime with his granddaddy. 

The girls went shopping and E left me in charge of Cooper for the first time. E's last words were, "Dad, you must watch him constantly. He's a puppy and will eat anything. No stairs, and I don't want him to have an accident in the house."

I responded, perhaps a bit indignantly, "Yeah, Yeah, I got this."

Cooper and I played with his pull toys, went out a couple of times, played some fetch, took a nap, and then played some more.

Cooper disappeared.

I took my eyes off him for a few seconds and Poof, he was gone! I asked Bill if he had seen him. Nope.

I began searching the house. I checked the kitchen, worked my way back through the dining room, checked the hall, and re-checked the living room. Nothing. I went upstairs, checking under beds and behind curtains.  I swear, I checked everywhere. Still, no puppy.

Bill was having a good time with my dilemma but offered no ideas, support, or help. He kept saying, "Boy, You better find that dog."

I convinced myself that, somehow, Copper was outside. No, wait, that was impossible. I went to the kitchen to begin searching again, when I heard Bill say, "Boy, you're in trouble; the girls are home."

I met my daughter at the door and enlisted everyone's aid to find the puppy. "I can't find Cooper. I've been searching for about five minutes. He is nowhere."

About then, Cooper came from behind the couch, carrying one of Kady's picture frames, which he had chewed to shreds, wagging his little tail as if to say, "Hey, Mom. Look what Granddaddy let me do!"

There have been many other times Cooper has gotten me in trouble, like the destruction of the antique library table, but this is my favorite time and the one in which I consider myself an innocent victim. The other times were the combined efforts of a permissive grandparent and a puppy who thought he was hilarious.

I have come to understand that Cooper loved me like I loved him. He was the best remedy when I was recovering after surgery, instinctively understanding that I needed to take it slowly.

We were best buddies.

I can see now why people adore their dogs.

Mr. Cooper by John Neel

to the tune of Mr. Sandman by Pat Ballard

Baby Cooper, when Mom picked you out

One look at your face and there was no doubt

Everyone knows what I'm talkin' about

Baby Cooper, you picked Mom out.

(True story of the selection process)

Little Cooper, you're kinda sweet

You'll be a big dog 'cause you have big feet

Just learn your lessons, we'll give you a treat

Little Cooper, you're super sweet.

(It was true, puppy Cooper had huge feet)

Mr. Cooper, you're mighty fine

We go out walking and have a good time

I'd pay your vet bills to make you all mine (Alternate: Mom thinks you're her dog but you know you're mine.)

Mr. Cooper, You're Mighty Fine.

(Every time I said He's My Dog, E said, "Then you can pay his vet bills")

Mr. Cooper, You're the best boy

You're mighty handsome, one big fluffy toy

The girls adore you, they just can't be coy

Mr. Cooper, you're the best boy.

(Written in response to the adoration he received from every girl we passed)

Super Cooper, you're mighty fast

We throw a ball and you turn on the gas

Don't pull a muscle while you're hauling ass

Super Cooper, we know that you're fast.

(Written when, on my watch, he pulled a hammy fetching a long ball)

Mr. Cooper, you'll always be free

You'll never be on a rope on a tree

We'll always walk you when you need to go pee (Alternate: You'll go out Glamping in the RV)

Mr. Trooper, you'll always be free.

(Written when Al said the Cooper could stay out back at his house, roped to a tree)

Mr. Cooper, you were my friend

How I wish I could walk you again

Faithful and true from the first till the end

Mr. Cooper, I was your friend