It has been one month since I had to let Cooper go. The first couple of days were odd, not as sad as I would have anticipated, just rather flat. Then I had Hannah, Gabe and Annie's dog, for ten days and that kept me occupied. But eventually Hannah left and I was then ambushed by the reality of Cooper's absence.
Cooper was not a rambunctious dog; he was a stately breed of canine. Not too noisy, not too barky, not too friendly. Definitely not a Golden Retriever type of dog. But Cooper had some very rigid habits and those habits became mine as well because, well, we lived together for many years and thus shared space and time. For example, every day at 4:00 p.m. (in the cottage where I currently live) we would walk down the path to the large swimming pool and we would walk around the pool twice. Cooper would then bound up the stairs like he was a puppy, back up the path and wait by the cottage door because 4:00 was when Cooper got his Greenie. No exceptions. Cooper could be sound asleep at 3:59 but at 4:00 he was wide awake, waiting by the door.
Same thing with dinner. He liked his meal served at precisely 5:00 p.m. At that hour Cooper would stare at me unflinchingly until I got up, got his bowl and gave him dinner. Didn't matter if we were at home, at a friend's house, in a different time zone. He knew when 5:00 came and he wanted his dinner right then. No exceptions.
When I made toast for myself, Cooper always got a bite. I would always cut a small corner off of the toast and when I was done eating he would get his bite. Several times after he was gone I was still reaching for a knife to cut that little corner off for him.
Cooper was a quiet dog but he made a lot of noise when he slept. Not just snoring (although he was good at that) but little snorting noises, long musical sighs, tiny barks as he dreamt. Nighttime is so quiet without those little dog noises. I miss that.
So many other examples....living with a creature for more than 15 years means you are connected in more ways than I can describe. He knew when it was cocktail hour, he knew when to trick me into going outside so he could get a cookie, he knew how to look so pitiful that a second cookie was inevitable. He knew which of my friends was a softie for dogs and which didn't really care about dogs, and he respected both of those opinions. Cooper loved parties because there was always a chance of sneaking a bite from some sympathetic dog lover.
I do miss his jaunty walk and his disdain for cats, his eagerness to chase a squirrel and his disregard for birds. Undoubtedly I will be missing him for quite some time. His absence is keenly felt.
