Old Trucks, Dogs & Memories
We All Get The Dog We Deserve
Samantha with Ruger and Cooper. The muzzle was for when
he saw other dogs. He’d chew the seatbelts up from frustration.
Cooper and Maisie.
Life’s journey is sweeter when shared with dogs. They provide us with companionship, security and a sense of well-being, and their undying love and faithfulness are legendary. All for a small investment of food, water and a warm bed. We all end up with the dog we deserve.
As a married man, I’ve been fortunate with our dog family. First was Linus the Beagle. Then came Ruger, an honorable and noble Black Labrador, followed by Cooper. Ruger and Cooper had a love-hate relationship that blossomed into true friendship/love over time. Ruger was a pure breed, while Cooper — a rescue — was a Border Collie and Golden Retriever mix.
His orangutan orange coat was thick and luxurious, with black accents on the tip of his tail, ears and eyebrows. His eyes were deeply intense, with sharp vision to match. He tracked things in the air, moving his head like a seizure, discovering a gnat buzzing around his air space.
Cooper is a full-blown genius of Einstein proportions. He rings a string of sleigh bells hanging off the doorknob, alerting us when he needs to go out. He’s also an expert timekeeper; his internal clock knows the minute when breakfast, dinner, or any other task is due. He keeps us well-trained on the daily schedule. His days are spent herding squirrels in the backyard.
When we first got him, Cooper was on the wild side, bordering on deranged, from exposure to the dog pound. He was days from being euthanized but was rescued by a wonderful adoption group. We got him from a foster family. He tended to nip, growl and nudge us, herding everyone into the house, following his Border Collie instincts.
Lots of love, mixed with work, morphed Cooper into a great dog. Over the years, he became very sweet and cuddly. As Ruger aged, he needed surgery for a torn ACL and later a mass on his spleen. Both times, Cooper met us at the door when we brought Ruger home, and he whimpered as he sniffed his brother over, worried about him.
Maisie came 10 days after we had to put Ruger to sleep. She, too, is a rescue of crazy proportions. She’s a mix of mostly Lab, German Shepard, Doberman pincher, Australian Cattle Dog and Border Collie. As expected, she’s athletic as hell and plays ball until exhaustion. She’s protective, faithful and sweet.
Ruger’s ashes which ride under the front passenger seat.
Cooper and Maisie getting whipped cream and scrambled eggs.
The Dog Mobile
I still drive a 1998 Chevy Tahoe. The first weekend we got it, I drove it to deer hunt in West Virginia. During this hunt, I found out Camille was pregnant and shot my biggest buck ever. The Tahoe is my rabbit’s foot, bringing me my greatest memories. It hauled Samantha home from the hospital after she was born and her first puppy, Ruger, when she was five.
The Tahoe transported Samantha to school every day, with Ruger, and later Cooper. It was the perfect first vehicle for Samantha when she started driving. Loving the Tahoe, she wouldn’t have had it any other way. She’s a sentimental sap like her daddy.
As Ruger aged and became arthritic, the Tahoe became easier for him to maneuver. Ruger’s gone, but Cooper and Maisie go on daily rides, filling The Tahoe with life. An oak box containing Ruger’s ashes is stowed under the front passenger seat, where Samantha placed them after he was cremated.
The Tahoe is still running. Our vet calls it the dog mobile. It’s full of memories, dog hair, nose prints, smells and other dog DNA. Samantha told me never to get it cleaned.
Cooper going bye-byes, his favorite thing.
Cooper
This past weekend, the Tahoe took Cooper on the last of his daily rides. Just shy of 14 years old, we discovered a large mass on his spleen. Samantha came up Thursday night to spend time with him, smothering him in hugs and kisses.
He got his favorite treats of whipped cream, scrambled eggs and ice cream. Saturday evening, after a very long ride, the vet came to the house. With Cooper lying on Samantha’s lap, on his favorite couch, surrounded by Camille and me, Cooper drifted off for a final sleep — a well-loved, sweet old pup. In the end, we all get the dog we deserve.
Samantha with Maisie and Cooper.
Cooper’s collar on his seat. Notice the Cooper
hair and nose prints on the window?
Afterthoughts
I miss Cooper terribly. He liked laying on his rug beside my La-Z-Boy chair while I read or watched TV. When dropping my right arm, I could always feel him wanting a belly rub. He’d position himself so his belly was always in my hand zone. I’ll miss how he’d start barking when I taped packages for the post office, knowing he was going for a ride soon.
Our hearts are broken, but that’s the sign of loving a great dog — and Cooper was a great one. Other dogs will be followed by the same sorrow, but the love a dog provides is worth it.
