COOPER
A Small Story About a Big Heart
By
Henry Argasinski
Copyright 2014, Henry Argasinski
From the Author of A Life in the City
CHAPTER ONE
It was the perfect kind of an autumn Saturday afternoon that late October. The sun was shining brightly and the sky was blue. It was just that kind of a perfect day, one for whichever reason Cooper had decided to walk down that particular street on that sunny afternoon.
Jacqueline was driving down that street when she first noticed him trotting down the sidewalk. She stopped her car and stared at the tiny Yorkshire terrier, a tangled and dirty mass of fur the size of a small ball you could hold in the palm of your hand. But there he was, happily trotting down that sidewalk without a care in the world. Stepping out of her car, she approached the tiny dog and as she leaned down to say “Hello” he jumped into her outstretched hands without hesitation.
“Well hello, who are you?” Jacqueline asked as she looked down at the ball of fur in her hands. The tiny dog looked back up at her, showing a smile through a mouthful of obvious bad teeth behind his shaggy and unkempt hair. “Where do you belong?” she asked, thinking at the same time of what she was going to do with the small bundle. The tiny dog was very content at that moment just to be held. Jacqueline proceeded to make some enquiries in the neighborhood, but there were no reports of anyone missing the small dog. She knew that she would be unable to take him home for her family had a house more than full of animals, so she would have to make a decision.
CHAPTER TWO
I had left for the office earlier that morning, spending a number of hours working on budgets for the upcoming year before finally deciding to step across the street for lunch. Working my way halfway through the gyro sandwich I’d ordered and sitting across from my boss who was munching on a salad, I was debating calling it a day when my cellphone rang. I picked up the phone and saw it was my wife Lisa calling.
“Come on home”, Lisa said to me. “We have a surprise coming to the house.” I asked what the surprise was, but Lisa simply replied “You’ll see”.
The decision was made, I was going home. After all, I couldn’t leave a surprise waiting.
The drive back home went quickly as traffic was light for a Saturday afternoon. When I arrived home I saw that Lisa’s nephew Thom was at the house. I was certain that couldn’t be the surprise for Thom was a frequent visitor to our home.
It was not.
As I stepped inside Lisa proceeded to tell me the story of how Jacqueline, the girl who did small jobs and housecleaning for us, had found the small dog and having no other alternatives available was bringing the dog to our home. That was fine, the both of us agreed for we would determine what to do next.
A few moments later Jacqueline showed up with the dog. We were in our family room, she came in and placed the dog down on the floor. We all gasped, “Oh my god, what a little guy.”
“We need to find him a home,” Jacqueline proclaimed.
The tiny dog ran around Thom in curiosity and then came over to me. I picked him up in my arms. I looked at him, he looked at me and my heart melted as his little tongue gave me a lick.
“He is home,” I said.
CHAPTER THREE
His long hair was matted, encrusted with dirt. He had a circus of fleas dancing about him with no rhyme which were being unwittingly pinched by us as we cradled his small bundle securely within our arms. His brown eyes were open large, overwhelming both of us as they gazed toward us and willingly displayed feelings showing nothing but trust, love and happiness. Much happiness, and our smiles confirmed that for the small dog seemed to smile right back at us with no hesitation.
“So now,” Lisa asked him, “what are we going to do with you, hmmm?” She then concluded with a smile, “That is, after we give you a bath.” We had found a large lump on his underbelly which caused us some concern and decided we would take him to the veterinarian the following morning where he would receive his first checkup. It was obvious no one had cared for this little guy for a long time, but this would be our job now.
There were three other faces cluster together nearby staring in curiosity and without making a sound to this point. Little Curbie (he had once been kicked to the curb, so to speak), large one-eyed Murphy who rarely seemed to get concerned over anything, and Barkley. Barkley was the boss, and he kept a tight rein over all dog toys and other small objects in the house. The final vote would come moments later at dinner time, and the little guy was welcomed alongside the rest as everyone ate without a growl to be had between anyone.
But our little guy needed a name. As our houseguests had left one had mentioned, perhaps half jokingly, we should call him a Mini Cooper because of the small dog being so tiny. For whatever reason the name Cooper seemed appropriate so I called to him, “Coop!” Our little guy looked up back at me, ears perked and head cocked once to one side and then the other. It was decided.
Coop.
CHAPTER FOUR
Our first night having Cooper with us proved to be a restless one. We wanted to keep him close so we could keep an eye on him, not wanting to give him the freedom of a strange house nor to be at the mercy of our cats, each one at least twice the size of our little guy. The first encounter earlier in the evening between our new addition and the three cats who shared the household had went smoothly and without incident. Each of the three cats took their turn to cautiously approach Cooper, take a sniff and bat at him once or twice until their curiosity was satisfied. Cooper in turn happily responded, letting out a playful yap back at each of them with his tail wagging. He must have had some previous interaction with felines. That being said, cats will still be cats and we decided it best to make his assimilation into the household a gradual and smooth transition.
Big Murphy usually slept in his bed next to ours, and the other two boys spend the night each in one of two laundry room cabinets I’d converted into their own personalized dog houses. We didn’t want to put Cooper into a metal cage, instead zipping him inside of a large mesh carrying case we then placed at the foot of our bed. As it turned out, the small dog would have nothing to it with that and he barked all night, jostling his enclosure about from one side of the room to the other. It would be a sleepless night for us all.
The following morning, being a Sunday, the only veterinarian open save for emergency services was a walk in clinic at a nearby pet store. We packed up Cooper into a small red pouch I’d once used to carry Curbie around in, strapped him around my shoulders and held the excited pup closely as we drove to the clinic.
“Who do we have here?” the doctor exclaimed as I lifted the tangled bundle out of the pouch into the examining table.
“This is Cooper,” I replied. “He’d been found as a stray some time back and the rescue group could not find the owner,” I said with a straight face, a stretch of the truth. “But we’ve taken him in and need to make sure he’s okay.”
“He’s fine and healthy,” the doctor came back a few moments later and proclaimed. “But, he’s only four pounds and should really be about 20 percent or so heavier. His teeth are really in bad shape, so I would put him as being at least two years old. Hard to determine, but he is fully grown. That lump is an impacted testicle beneath his skin, quite large at that, which never dropped with the other one. And the fleas you already know about.”
We had Cooper micro chipped that day, he received his shots and then we headed back home with him, together a bad full of medication and everything else the vet had recommended. All for our little Cooper.
Our boy seemed to be fully housebroken, lining up with the others at the back door. He immediately took to and loved the freedom of our large yard. We recently
had new neighbors move in next door with two larger dogs, and when both groups were outside at the same time they would run back and forth along both sides of the chain link fence barking to no end. Cooper jumped right into the game with the pack. He quickly became a member of the group as if he’d always belonged together with them.
That was our little Cooper.
CHAPTER FIVE
That night we let Cooper have the run of the bedroom with one-eyed Murphy keeping watch, bemused yet seemingly uninterested in his new roommate. Our little guy had somehow discovered how to make his way up onto our bed but we would have none of that fearing the small dog would fall off and hurt himself. He was bound and determined to stay up there, but after being placed back down onto the floor after a dozen times he finally settled down and we all called it a night.
Five o’clock.
My alarm clock was set for six o’clock, yet Coop was adamant it was time to get up as he yapped directly below me. We made our way downstairs and I went outside with him while he took care of his business. Lisa and I had decided one of us would always go outside with him for there was a large hawk in the neighborhood and we feared the small dog would be too easy a target. The other boys would have no part of getting up so early, so we returned inside where I started the coffeemaker an hour before it was set to start. I would quickly learn that five o’clock was the time every day, including weekends, and I would just have to adjust my schedule accordingly. Not that I had any other option, apparently.
Two hours later I opened the floor door to head out to work and without warning Cooper darted out between my legs, waiting outside to see where we were going. We weren’t going anywhere, so I picked him up and placed him back down inside.
“Sorry Coop, I can’t take you with me. Besides, you wouldn’t like it anyway.” Looking back at him as I closed the door I said to him, “Your job is to stay here and look after your mom and the house. I’ll be back, promise.”
That evening when I returned home I was greeted with the usual barking chorus announcing my return as I approached up the walk to the front door. Looking in through the glass panels on the entry door, I could see Cooper sitting on the steps leading up to the second floor, just high enough for him to see outside. At the sight of me, he hopped down those steps and happily ran circles around me as I stepped inside. “He was waiting there all day for you to come home,” Lisa exclaimed as I said my hellos to everyone. “Promised I’d be back,” I said to him, picking up the small dog into my arms as he showed how excited he was to see me. I looked down at my little bundle, telling him I had come back home as I’d promised and as I’d always would. Sitting down into my armchair with him still wrapped around by my arms, I started to tell him how I had told everyone in the office about my new little buddy. Cooper did not seem to express much interest, he simply circled about once and came to rest in a tight little ball in my lap, his big brown eyes looking up at me.
That was our little Cooper.
CHAPTER SIX
The weeks which followed were filled with many firsts for Cooper.
His first bath was taken in stride, although it may have been more of a submission given his inability to put up much of a fight. Into the laundry tub he went for a thorough wash with flea shampoo, Lisa putting on some conditioner and rubbing it throughout before giving him a quick rinse followed by a rub down with a dry towel. Shaking off the water, he allowed himself to have a comb run through his matted hair and then with a small pair of scissors cutting away the hair covering those big brown eyes which stared out to see all the world. Standing there he would have been proud had he a mirror with which to see this brand new dog looking back. That would do, at least until his trip to the groomer.
His first walk also went well. When the leashes came out the house was always thrown into a tizzy. Murphy would always be excited and first out the door, Curbie never quite grasped the concept nor what was expected of him when we passed a convenient hydrant or promising flower bush. As for Barkley the master of the domain, he would always act as if he was being dragged out to be thrown into a pot of boiling water and wanted no part of going out of the house. We did not have a collar small enough to fit Cooper, but I was able to improvise by adjusting a harness we’d had for Curbie when he was younger. Outside our group went, Lisa and I, each with two of our boys in tow. Cooper was not quite sure of what was expected of him, but within moments he picked up his stride and proudly strutted next to us, easily keeping pace. Passing his first bush, he lifted a hind leg and christened the neighborhood with the announcement that he was here, something which our other boys with the exception of Murphy still would rather sneak a stealth tinkle on a rug or sofa leg. In dog school that would have been worth a gold star.
His first snow was an interesting experience. We had received an early snowfall having less than an inch on the ground. As the troupe ran out into the backyard Cooper stopped in this tracks and refused to step down into the snow, as if he had never seen snow before and did not know what it was. This confirmed our suspicion he may have been left caged inside somewhere and confined strictly for breeding before getting out somehow or released for having lived out his usefulness. I picked him up and walked out carrying him into the yard, but after placing him down he quickly got his footing and ran off to join the rest of the group out in the back corner. We recently had new neighbors move next door and with them came two large, black Labrador retrievers. With only a chain link fence separating the adjoining yards it became a favorite pastime of both groups to run from one end of the fence to the other barking as loud as they could like an endless sound loop. The moment Coop saw what was going on he immediately joined in, his short legs seemingly having no difficulty in keeping up with the rest of the pack.
There were two trips which no dog seemed to enjoy and the first, while the least painful yet no less traumatic being the one to the groomer. Cooper at first likely thought we were heading out to enjoy his newly discovered pastime of going for a walk, but the others instinctively knew. Each trip to the groomer, while being only a few blocks away, proved to be an exhausting workout but our little boy was the easiest to handle: we simply carried him while dragging the rest out in a mad panic to be hustled into the van. At the groomer’s each of our boys were taken in turn to the back for their session. As I handed Cooper to the attendant and he was taken away, my little boy looked back at me with those large brown eyes, not knowing what was to come next.
“Don’t worry Coop,” I said to him. “I’ll be back for you. I’ll always come back for you.”
Several hours later we returned for the group, and at his first sighting of me standing there those short legs couldn’t move fast enough as he ran out to me. Picking him up I almost did not recognize the best in show dog who had come out from behind the curtain for he resembled more of a page taken out of a coffee table book on dogs than the tangle of hair first brought in a few hours before, despite our best efforts at home. “Cooper!” I exclaimed as those big bright brown eyes into mine. “Is that really you?” It certainly was, his tail quickly wagging as I held him. The other boys all came out with little bows tied to their collars, but Cooper didn’t have one for I had yet to find a small collar which would fit our boy. The groomer was apologetic but I told her not to be for maybe he could get two bows next time but he looked perfect without one.
That was our little Cooper.
CHAPTER SEVEN
We had taken Cooper for a visit with our regular veterinarian and the doctor confirmed he was relatively healthy. “Bad teeth,” she said. “But we can also take care of those when he comes in for surgery to take care of that impacted testicle, along with the other one.” As we were leaving she advised us that our boy would have to gain at least a pound in weight before the procedure, about twenty percent of his body mass, so we scheduled his surgery to take place in another four weeks. “Four more weeks Coop,” I said to him, and he looked up showing an expression which se
emed to say that was just fine with him. Home we went.
Over the next weeks our life with Coop had become, for lack of a better term, routine. He was accepted by all the animals and it almost seemed as if our home was where he belonged, almost as if he’d always been there. In particular by Allie, our long haired and fluffy tailed cat with one eyed cat, who shadowed Coop everywhere and was never more than two paces away.
I had resigned to waking up each morning at five o’clock and accepted that was Coop’s time to do his business, and every evening I accompanied him outdoors to keep an eye on him, even as the temperature got colder and the occasioned snow flurries fell. I became accustomed to withstanding the oncoming winter weather standing outside wearing only my bathrobe and little else.
With our small boy underfoot and always nearby, I learned to be mindful of every step I took so as not to come down on the little guy.
And Cooper continued to await my arrival home, each and every day without fail.
We had me to terms with Cooper sharing our bed, sleeping between Lisa and I, with us carefully making room for him each night.
“Can you believe how much love this little dog has brought into our home, into our lives?” Lisa said to me one night in the dark.
“I know,” I replied back and smiled. “He’s home with us now.”
We had never had children, although Lisa loved children and would have made a wonderful mother, and I had always wanted a son or daughter. To us, our four legged family brought us joy in their own special way and we lightheartedly referred to them as our children. Cooper was special, for this small dog seemed to love us intensely and wanted nothing in return. When I looked at this small dog as he gazed back at me with that small tail spinning it was as if I could almost feel such unconditional love radiating forth, something I had never experienced before and which filled me with such an overwhelming sense of warmth and happiness.
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