We lost Cooper last week. We took him to the vet because he’d been pretty lethargic lately. I was expecting the vet to say something like “Give him some vitamins and stop wasting my time. Dumbass.” Instead, we left with only Cooper’s leash and collar and a promise that they’ll send his remains to us after the cremation. Golden Retrievers often get some kind of cancer sooner or later. At 9, Cooper was sooner.

With other dogs, we’ve usually had some warning. A dog would get sick and we’d treat the dog for a few months and then we’d schedule an appointment for euthanasia. With Cooper, he was gone the first time we took him in.

He was a beautiful dog with long, soft fur. He usually had a happy expression. Sometimes, he’d look concerned and waggle his eyebrows like he was trying to solve a complicated puzzle. Like door handles. Seeing him always made me smile.

Cooper was a big dog for a Golden. He usually weighed around 100, give or take 5 pounds. He was big-boned and stocky rather than fat. He was surprisingly agile and bouncy when he was chasing after a favorite stuffed toy.

Cooper also had big strong fangs and jaws. Pam would often buy a doggie toy for Cooper that was guaranteed to outlast the toughest treatment. However, no toy ever lasted more than a few minutes with Cooper.

The early years

We initially got Cooper as a foster dog 5 years ago with the Great Lakes Golden Retriever Rescue. When we got him, he was a mess. His first owner never tried to correct any of Cooper’s behaviors. Cooper was used to just barging around, taking what he wanted.

When anyone prepared food, Cooper was there with his nose inches away from the food, panting heavily, waiting for you to look away so that he could inhale as much as he could. Sometimes he wouldn’t wait for you to look away.

Walking Cooper was a real challenge. He wasn’t used to being walked at all. He’d pull as hard as he could and it was tough to stop him.

We tried training him but we had limited results. We wound up working with Christine Mahaney at whatadog. We (Pam) got Cooper to lay down and relax when there was food around. We’d still need to be in the room to supervise, but he wouldn’t be panting heavily and steaming up the food. Over time, we (Pam) got Cooper to walk with a loose leash.

Cooper stories:

• Scott was in the kitchen making a sandwich. He put some cheese on the counter and turned a few degrees to get the bread. When he turned back, he saw Cooper on his hind legs, his forelegs on the counter, and the last of the cheese disappearing into his mouth.
• Once, when the massage ladies were over, they stood around to admire Pam’s new stove. Behind them, Cooper was scarfing down Sue’s cake.
• When the Thirsty  Thursday ladies were over, Cooper was left to himself in the dining room. I heard one of them saying that there was a huge dog eating off the table.
• Cooper ran off one night. When he came back, he had some golf club covers in his mouth. I eventually found out that he’d gone into a neighbor’s garage, knocked over the golf cart, and pulled the covers off the clubs.
• Cooper has also eaten a variety of leather gloves and shoes. Sometimes ratty old ones. Sometimes brand new ones.
• Cooper didn’t do much barking which is typical of Golden Retrievers. What wasn’t typical is that he was often howling at the moon like a fluffy wolf.

Life without Cooper.

When we go to bed, the dogs usually hung out with us and they slept on the bedroom floor. (Not on the bed though. That’s creepy.) Cooper wanted to stay downstairs instead. We initially allowed that until we found that if he’s alone, he’ll bark his head off at passing murderers, burglars, squirrels, leaves, etc. The only way to keep him in was to shut the bedroom door. We’re getting used to keeping the bedroom door open again.

We’re getting used to putting something edible on the counter, turning around for a couple of seconds, turning back, and seeing that the food is still there.

(This one’s sorta awkward.) I got used to blaming Cooper if I passed gas noisily. (Told ya.) I find that I still shout “Cooper!” in an accusatory tone whenever that happens. It’s a sad and stupid way to be reminded of him.

Cooper was a major pain in a$$ and we loved him a lot. Just like family.