Cooper

Cooper is our Australian Shepherd; he was our first dog. Growing up, my older sister had a dog or two that I would dote upon, but my parents were anti-dog, and so I never had one of my own. This is Cooper's story.

Clayton, Joseph, and I were bored one Saturday, and decided to head over to Cal Ranch, where the local animal shelter was holding a pet adoption. We needed something to do, so why not go check out the animals? There were a bunch of cats in cages (I hate cats), a few kittens (kittens are cute, but they grow up to be cats), and several fenced-off areas with a variety of dogs. There were your typical shelter dogs: Labs, terriers, mutts. And then we saw a man & a woman petting a dog and talking to the shelter worker. The dog caught my eye, and I snuck in closer to hear what they were talking about. I heard the man saying that although this was a very good-looking dog, they really wanted a female dog, not a male, and then they got up and left. Now I felt bad for the poor little dog, denied a home because he was a boy and not a girl. He can't help that he's a boy, and boy dogs need good homes just as much as girl dogs do! So I went over to him and began petting him.

He had long, soft fur in a patchwork of colors that I would later find out was called "Blue Merle", but to me, it was just a mixture of white, black and gray all over. He was just slightly longer than he was tall, and had a short stubby tail. But his most captivating features were his eyes and his nose. I know, whose most captivating feature is their nose, right?? But this dog's nose was completely adorable: as pink as a new school eraser, with three or four black polka-dots thrown on. As for his eyes, one was brown with a blue spot, and the other was blue with a patch of brown at the top.

Clayton and Joseph began talking about Australian Shepherds; their grandpa Sagers had had one not too long ago, and this dog looked very similar. They discussed what good cowdogs Aussies were, and then an idea started forming in my mind. I took the dog on a walk around the store to test out his manners. The shelter workers noticed my interest and told me the only details that they knew about him; that he was a stray, probably about six months old, and he was smart. Then, they threw a low-blow: any of the dogs not adopted today would be put to sleep. Now, I'm sure this is a just a method that shelter workers sometimes use to pull at the heart-strings of potential adoptive parents, and whether or not it was true, I do not know. But it worked on me. I couldn't let this sweet, adorable dog be put to sleep!

I pulled Clayton and Joseph together for a quick huddle to convince them that we needed to adopt this dog. Here's the only problem: Clayton and I had just graduated college and didn't have a home of our own yet. We had moved in temporarily with Clayton's dad and stepmom, until Clayton found a job and we could get our own place. Before we could adopt the dog, we had to get permission. I called Joel and began sweet-talking; he was a bit reluctant at first, but I won him over. We bought a collar, a leash, and a food dish, and then we bought the dog. We named him Cooper.