Sunday mornings with Cooper

The face Cooper loves to give you when he is at his worst

I like to dedicate a lot of my weekend time to Cooper. On Saturday, however, the weather was pretty crappy so I decided to stay inside; meaning Cooper too was cooped up (like my play on words) in the house all day. To make it up to him, on Sunday I decided to take him all the way to the dog park on the schuylkill (about 1.3 miles from our house). This place is the Paris of dog parks. The entire place is made of turf and is surrounded by beautiful benches and landscaping. Cooper loves this park because it is bigger and he gets to play with a lot of dogs (since he isn't preoccupied with eating mulch). Anyway, we don't normally go here because it is pretty far and because it is filled with snoody people. But for Cooper, I swallow my pride and take a few dirty looks so he can have a good time.

So we get to the park and we already have one strike against us because Coop is a mutt. Only purebreds are worthy of that park in some people's minds. To make it worse, as soon as we enter the park Cooper runs up to two puppies who are playing and begins his "play with me!" bark. Now what you may not get is that Cooper will bark for 10 minutes strait if a dog won't pay attention to him. So as soon as he started barking, I ran over to him and tried to grab him. Now Cooper is very used to this and proceeded to run in circles around these dogs barking with me chasing behind him like an idiot. Of course the tight assed people of the elite dog park were snickering at the plebeian being outsmarted by a 6 month old, super annoying puppy. Luckily, Cooper made a wrong move and I was able to grab him by the collar and get him away from the action.
Things got better at this point and he found a fellow 6 month old puppy to wrestle with, and all was well for the next 10 minutes. Then, the owner of Cooper's new friend took out the leash. I wanted to cry. Cooper was about to be lonely again, and a lonely Cooper is a loud Cooper. Fortunately, another puppy was interested in my mutt. She was about double Cooper's weight, coming in at a whopping 80lbs at 7 months. Nevertheless, Coop held his own. They played for about 5 minutes, and then the worst thing happened. Another dog tried to take Cooper's new friend. Cooper broke into a barking fit. He barked his new friend right onto a bench. With his persistent "pay attention" woofs, his giant friend became more and more afraid. She backed up and right on over the back of the bench. At this point he decided she was in too much of a predicament to go anywhere with another dog,  but he still needed to chase away his competitor; a 130 pound Great Dane. He started jumping at the other dog's face nipping and barking him right into a corner. I was mortified as people were pointing at him asking "who's dog is that?". As I ran over to get him, things got worse. His super nose caught a scent and ran full speed over to a girl holding a coffee cup. Of course, Cooper jumped right up to her and knocked her coffee everywhere. To make things worse, she was the owner of the Great Dane he was tormenting.

At this point, I was so tired of chasing him that I just stopped and screamed "Cooper come!!". Of course, he came prancing over and sat down right in front of me with his tongue hanging happily out of his mouth. I put his harness on, and shamefully left the dog park.
On our way home, we walk by Doggie Style, Cooper's favorite pet store. I needed a couple of things there so I decided to stop in. Of course everyone was fussing over Cooper and his "perfect spot" on his head. "Oh he's such a good puppy!" "You are so lucky to have such a well-behaved dog at his age."Yeh ok, I thought.

Anyway, to make a long story short, we did a whole lot of shopping and trying things on. Cooper also got his dagger nails clipped since my poor legs couldn't take any more cuts from him scratching me (and of course the groomer came back telling me how he was one of the best puppies she had ever dealt with). I got him a ton of treats for being such a good puppy in the store. But my favorite item of all was his new coat. I normally don't think that dogs need coats since they naturally have their own, but Cooper tends to shake when we are outside too long, so I bought him one. Anyway, for the first few blocks he acted like he didn't even know there was anything on him. I was so pleased. I had thought he would rip it right off, but maybe this coat didn't bother him. Well it didn't... until we hit Broad Street. As we are crossing the busy 6 lane street that only gives pedestrians 15 seconds to cross, Cooper whips around and grabs his coat. He proceeds to lay down and start rolling around. I could see through windshields, motorists chuckling at my "adorable" puppy. After a few failed attempts to coax him up, I decided we were running out of time, and I dragged him on his stomach the rest of the way. Everyone around me was laughing; I'm pretty sure even William Penn on top of city hall cracked a smile at that scene. To be honest, I couldn't even be mad at him because it was just so like Cooper to do this. And honestly, it was pretty cute.

Cooper in his new coat

Anyway, of course as soon as we got onto the other side of the street Cooper forgot about his coat and started walking normally. Luckily, we made it home with no further incidents.
After giving him a treat I bought him (which he probably didn't deserve), he curled up and is now happily passed out by my side.
The saddest part of this story is that I am such a sap for Cooper that we will be back at the dog park (unless we are banned), and we will have the same experience again. Oh well, people will do anything for their dogs right??

Recap of our first few months with Cooper

Cooper around 4 months with his crazy ears

Things started off horrendously with Cooper. Our first night with him, he cried incessantly. At first we tried keeping him on the first floor in his crate while our bedroom was on the third floor. After about an hour of him crying we decided to try something else since I was pretty sure he was waking up the entire neighborhood. We would bring the crate to the 2nd floor and we would sleep in the guest bedroom there. That way I could carry him down the stairs easily if he had to go the bathroom since he could not yet get down them himself. This did not help the yelping. It continued. I wanted started to cry. "I needed sleep. Why did I get this puppy?", I thought to myself. "When will this all end?" "This was such a bad decision".  Finally after an additional hour of both he and I crying, and Dylan yelling at him, we miraculously discovered that Cooper was willing to compromise. He would pipe down if someone left their hand on the crate so he could smell it through the mesh. Finally, some sleep. Or so we thought.
I did not realize until we got Cooper, just how small puppy bladders were. Cooper and I were up about 6 times that first night with me carrying him outside to go to the bathroom. The only thing I was thankful for was that he had already realized that it was not OK to go to the bathroom in his bed. Instead he would make a great big "Ohhhhh" over and over again until someone woke up and carried his little body down the stairs. Of course he never wanted to go back to bed. He would run around downstairs until he was caught and put back in his crate. And of course he would cry again because he didn't want to sleep, he wanted to play.
Needless to say, the first couple of nights were miserable. I was up constantly with Cooper taking him to the bathroom, and trying to get comfortable while I left one hand on the top of his crate so he would stop crying. After about a week or so, Dylan and I were able to move back up to the 3rd floor, with Cooper of course by our side. His nightly bathroom trips slowly became less frequent, which was much needed because by 3 months old he was 22 lbs and 35lbs by 4 months. In addition, after each bathroom trip he would also go happily back into his crate if you put some treats in there. We also learned that if we let him fall asleep in the bed, we could carry him into his crate without any whining. (we hit a bump in the road when he started growling when we tried to move him, but by this point we could get him to go in the crate own his own)

Study Buddies

So how did our days go? Most were good. My school schedule allowed me to have Cooper in his crate only in the mornings. I would come home for lunch and would study in my own home for the rest of the evening. At first this was easy because as a young puppy, Cooper required a whole lot of sleep. However, as the months went on, Cooper got more energy. My studying soon became me writing with one hand, and playing tug-o-war with the other. I was still able to get all of my work done, although it took me double the time. I even let Cooper sleep on the couch next to me, just so he would be quiet for an hour or two (This was a big no-no according to Dylan). I couldn't wait each night for Dylan to come home and relieve me of my duties (although this usually didn't happen since Cooper still preferred to annoy his mom).

Finally, the day came when Cooper could go to the dog park. I knew this was a great way to burn energy. At first, Cooper would hide behind people's legs and only seldom venture out to play with a dog if it was small enough. Around this time, we also noticed Cooper's love of sniffing. I'm not sure if its the hound in him, but as soon as he got more confident at the dog park, he spent most of his time sniffing. He was referred to as a loner. At the time, I got frustrated that he wouldn't play with the other dogs. Looking back, I should have treasured those times a little more. As time went on Cooper started to play with more and more dogs. At first it was really cute. However, it has evolved to incessant barking if a dog won't give him attention. In fact, he has cleared out the whole dog park with his barking, and people often think he is being aggressive. Luckily, there are a few owners that realize he is just a loud dog, and as soon as their dog starts playing with him, he shuts up, and plays great.
Cooper also has a lot of girlfriends at the dog park. His favorite so far is Adi, a puppy about a month younger then him who he likes to "protect" from other dogs (more like hog her). He plays great with girls, and when one of his female friends is around, he is usually very well behaved. Male dogs he doesn't do as well with. He starts playing nice, but almost always gets upset by the end.
However, his biggest vice of all is his consumption of the dog park. You may be wondering what I mean, but it's just like I said. Cooper eats the dog park. It's made of mulch, which apparently is a delicacy in the dog world. Unfortunately for me, I have spent many mornings cleaning up vomit of wood chips and picking up poop filled with wood.
Despite all of this, I continue to take him because he likes it, and during the few times there is another puppy who is willing to play with my crazy guy, he is the happiest puppy in the world.

Cooper (2.5 months) torturing Tangerine

So how are the cats handling it? That is the most frequent question I get. For the most part, they tolerate him. Little 8lb Tangerine is a little afraid of him. And I don't blame her. He thinks she's a fun toy and likes to chase her and nip at her feet. Every once in a while she startles him when she slinks around the house and he puffs up and growls at her. However, as soon as I show him its her, his tail starts wagging again and he tries to bite her feet.
 Blue on the other hand takes no shit. If Cooper comes within 5 feet of him, Blue raises his paw. At first, Blue would scratch Cooper, but it didn't take long for Blue to realize that Cooper is just a sissy, and is only trying to play. Now, the two boys "play" together; with Cooper lifting his paw as if to scratch like Blue does. Except Cooper has no aim and usually is just batting at the air blindly. Blue usually just humors him and lifts his paw up too. It lasts for about 2 minutes before Blue gets bored and goes back to sleep somewhere.
My favorite Cooper/Blue moment however occurred just last week. Blue who loves to sit in Cooper's crate and not let him in, was enjoying some water from Cooper's bowl in the cage. Cooper at merely 6 months old got the bright idea to lock Blue in the crate. Using his paw he was able to shut the door. And with his mouth he lifted the lock and slid it over. Dylan and I sat there in amazement watching this feat, too stunned to do anything. Needless to say, Blue was not happy about this entrapment, and I think his pride was a little hurt.

At 6 months old and over 40 pounds, Cooper has brought us nothing but joy (kinda). Our first few months have been filled with a ton of good times with too many stories to recount. Just today Cooper got in a fight with his brother Gus at the dog park, ate a full piece of sausage off our counter without anyone realizing it, and ran around the house with my undergarments.

Cooper at 6 months

He is currently licking my computer screen, wondering why I am not paying attention to him. So that is my cue to go! 

Bad decisions

Cooper with my sister during his first week with us

This blog will be a chronicle of my first year with my mutt Cooper. He is the first dog that I have the honor of raising without the help of my parents. So as you can imagine, as a 23 year old in medical school with 2 cats already, we had and continue to have a whole lot of adventures.
So how did all of this happen?

About 3.5 months ago I got the worst idea of my life and adopted a 10 week old puppy while in medical school. He was just another addition to my zoo which already consisted of 2 cats. As a busy medical student, I knew that this was a bad idea, but sometimes things just happen.
So anyway, during the summer my boyfriend and I were visiting his mother's beautiful farm in West Chester, PA. During that particular visit there were 6 dogs around; of those belonging to the farm, there were 2 miniature Australian shepards, 1 black lab and 1 golden retriever; in addition Dylan's aunt brought her shiba inu; as for the last dog, I have no idea what she was but nevertheless she was adorable. Anyway, where I'm going with this is that this visit made me want a dog so bad. My childhood dog died when I was a senior in high school and my parents weren't ready for another dog yet (despite it being 6 years since he passed). I had never been able to fill the gap that Henry's death left behind and since I had just had a relaxing summer off, I felt like I could handle a dog. So anyway, I knew that Dylan (with whom I lived with) was in a state of doggy weakness after this visit to "the farm" as we called it.
When we got home to our little house in Philadelphia I told Dylan how much I missed having a dog and that maybe we could "just look" at some to get an idea for what we liked. He of course told me it was a bad idea, but continued to help me look around at local rescues online. I feared for the life of my cats so I thought I should probably get a puppy that could be raised with them.
One early afternoon weekend while I was doing puppy research Dylan pulled up petfinder and showed me 6 hound mix puppies in a no-kill shelter in No Lib (to northern liberties for those of you who don't know the lingo). My heart melted. I needed to see these puppies. So we jumped in our car, and drove on over to the rescue.
As we got into the rescue, I wanted to give make sure that I made no rash decisions, and told the people that we were just looking but we weren't ready to adopt (I'd soon eat those words). I did not want to go straight for the puppies so I asked to see many different dogs from shelties, to pitbulls, and from old to young. I liked some of the dogs but Dylan wasn't a fan. He soon asked one of the volunteers about the hound puppies. She led us to the back which was filled with dogs that all looked desperate for a home. I remember tearing up and wishing that I could take them all home. As we walked through the rescue I asked the volunteer questions like "How big are these puppies expected to get" (the answer of 50-100lbs was really vague and left Dylan uneasy since we live in center city Philadelphia), and "What shots do they have?", etc. But all of these things were forgotten as we got to the hounds. There were 3 puppies in one pen. I would find out that these were the girls. All of them were a solid tan color with little touches of white around their face. Next to this pen were 3 males. One of the males had the same coloring as the girls (this puppy would soon go to our next door neighbor). Another male had the same tan color on most of his body, but his face and legs were white with spots. The final puppy was a little smaller then the rest and had a brown body with the same spotty white legs and head as his other brother. The one defining feature was a big spot on top of his head.
I knew I would never be able to pick between the dogs, but I decided I liked the ones with the white limbs and spots. After this, I could not decide between the two (although I was leaning towards the larger tan one), so I made Dylan pick. He liked the spot-head one go figure. But I'd take what I could get, and with that, we asked the volunteer if we could play with this puppy. She said of course and she put us in a room with him. We were told we were not allowed to put him down because he didn't have all of his vaccines. I felt that this made it hard to see how he really was, but I figured I don't want him getting sick, so I listened to my instructions. At the time, this puppy's name was Hamlet. He seemed scared, but he was adorable. I was a little iffy on him because he wasn't nearly as high energy as my dog growing up (or so I thought), but I figured he was just 10 weeks old and he was sitting on the lap of a human he didn't know. And then it happened. The scared little puppy got stood up on my lap and gave me a tongue facial. He continued at this and even nibbled on my ear. I wanted him. Scratch that, I needed him.
After telling Dylan this, he gave me the whole spiel about if I get him, he would be my puppy, and that I had to pay for him and take care of him. I brushed him off saying I know, I know. With my acceptance of his conditions, I called my mom (the usual baby-sitter of my cats), avoided my dad (the voice of reason), and called Dylan's mom (the owner of our house). Everyone was on bored. All I had to do was fill out an application, and be approved, and I'd have my first puppy.
I went home that night beaming. I googled "names for hound dogs". Tons of names came up like Elvis (Aint nothing but a hound dog) and Gunner, but they just didn't seem right. And then, I remembered one of those childhood classics, "The Fox and the Hound". "What was that dog's name? Cooper was it? Oh yeh, I love that name! Hey Dylan, what do you think of Cooper?" And with that we had his name. I would also like to add that it took me about another month to realize that the dog in the movie's name was actually Copper, but oh well, close enough.
I could barely sleep that night, and the next day in school, I told everyone that I was getting a puppy. I just couldn't wait. So you can imagine I was crushed that night when Dylan came home from work and told me he changed his mind and we weren't ready for a puppy. I instantly burst into tears squeaking out unintelligible protests such as "but you promised" and "but I already love him". Apparently, I was pathetic enough and Dylan recanted his words and told me I could have the dog, but again, he was mine and I had to take care of him, blah blah blah.
Needless to say, the next day when the rescue called me to say we had been approved for adoption, and I told them we would be over later that night to get him! I texted Dylan and told him to get home early so we could get the dog before the place closed for the evening.
So about 5 that night we jumped in the car and headed north. Before I had even bought any puppy supplies in the store associated with the rescue, they put Cooper in my arms. At this point he was about 13lbs. Now this may not seem very heavy buy it took us about an hour to get out of the place, and I wasn't allowed to put him down since he wasn't fully vaccinated. So after some time of Cooper sliding down my legs, and a couple hundred of dollars later, we were taking our new puppy home!
He was absolutely silent the whole ride home, all of 5 minutes that is (we did not know it at the time, but that was actually a foreshadowing of Cooper's terrible car sickness that has resulted in him being on anti-nausea meds and having to lay on a tarp on any road trip due to excessive salivating).
When we got him home, we took him right out back so he knew where to go the bathroom. And then we saw the real Cooper. The second he touched the ground he was off running. Maybe he wasn't the calm puppy he seemed to be just 2 days prior.
At this time, he was the size of our cats, Blue (5 years old) and Tangerine (1.5 years old). They seemed a little weary of him, but he had no fear of them(although Blue would instill this in him very soon with a couple of swats to the face). Nevertheless, they accepted him without too much commotion, and all was well.
I was in love with the newest addition to our family. I love dogs probably more than is socially acceptable, and I knew that I had just found my new best friend :)

Cooper in his new crate with Tangerine, and Blue checking him out from a safe distance