Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Bird Dog

I'm finding it impossible to believe that 7 months ago we put Cafe down. I actually found myself angry about her loss the other day, as if my recent struggles were because her constant vigilance isn't around to protect me anymore. There are weeks that pass and I don't think about her at all. It's not because I don't miss her - nothing could be further from the truth. But, with two teenagers and a busy household, there's not tons of extra time for insightful reflection or feeling sorry for myself.

One of the things that keeps me busy and moving forward through my loss is Cooper. Recently, when trying to determine if our on-the-cusp-of-being-too-old puppy should be kept in puppy class or moved into the Novice class, I had this conversation with the trainer:

Trainer: So, tell me about your new baby?

Me: He's a Labrador retriever. 

Trainer: Okay. I'm deducting maturity points for being a Lab...and also for being a boy. We'll put him in the puppy class. 

 At five months old, he's moved past the adorable puppy phase and right into bratty adolescent. He's either sleepy and endearing, or full-on Asshole Mode. 

In an effort to get away from Cooper's overwhelming attentions, Riley has taken to jumping into my lap. This would be fine - if he didn't weigh almost 100 lbs. It also doesn't work, because if Cooper feels like Riley is inaccessible he becomes frantic to get to him...and then their are two dogs wrestling in my lap. *sigh*

It's in everyone's best interest to keep Cooper occupied (read: exhausted). Here are photos of today's walk around the lake, and Cooper's first experience seeing ducks:

There's not a whole lot of complex thinking at work here...just happy thoughts!

This is one of my favorite places to go running.

Vigilant look-out bun, keeping an eye on the dogs.

Bird dog...seeing ducks for the first time! Um, intense much?

1 comment:

  1. I'm glad you've got Cooper to keep you distracted. It really does help. It's been 11 years since I lost Brandy. It took me a good year before I could talk about her without crying. I got my "distractions" within six months of her death. It filled the emptiness.