Cooper: My Roadside Ragamuffin.

I'm a crazy dog lady; I admit it.
I post entirely too many pictures of good ol' Coop-slice on the internet. I get it!

"No you don't, Mom. I'm just a great model."

However, the general public totally fuels it for me.
Every time I take Cooper out someplace, I get at least two of the following from strangers:

"Oh, he's BEAUTIFUL! What kind of dog is he?"
"Where is he from? [Local shelter]?" (I've lived in several towns with him now)
"How can I find a dog like him?"
"That voice! He doesn't -look- like a Beagle...."

Well, here's how you get a dog like Cooper:

Drive on a quiet highway in very-very-upstate-new-york, in the middle of the night.
That's right! Cooper is a genuine roadside find.

Here's the short-version of how Cooper came to be my dog.

My suitemate-at-the-time, (now housemate) Amanda, was driving back to school from her home in a different part of NY. About half an hour from where we go to school, my then-roommate Zara saw something on the road. "Amanda. Something. Dog. DOG DOG DOGDOGAMANDASTOP!!!".

Screeeeeech. Bump. Amanda thought she'd hit whatever was out there, so she pulled over to make sure it was okay. Turns out, the dog didn't have a scratch on him! He was skinny and muddy, but didn't have any ID on him - just one way-too-big-collar. He seemed OK, but he didn't have anywhere else to go, and it was freezing out - so into the car he went.

I was not in the car, but I was also on my way back to Campus from the other direction. Amanda called me to tell me not to be alarmed when I came back to the dorm - and that they were going to try to get him clean. (This is when we found out that Cooper does NOT like baths.)

I didn't get back to the dorm until 2am- and I was exhausted. I went in, ignored the furball on the floor for a moment, and flopped down on the couch. Then a big, wet, waggin' tail and some big soulful eyes came up and cuddled with me- as if he knew I wasn't feeling well.

In that moment, it was all over. He was my dog. I knew it.

Ignore my icky-gross face. Like I said. 2am.

Over the next few weeks, we put up ads, asked around all the towns, posted on Facebook - nobody knew where this dog was from. When we went back to the town Amanda found him in, the majority of people say he was probably dumped there by someone who didn't want their dog. Apparently it 'happens all the time'. How sad.

That dog-dumping jerk's loss is my gain, though - because I have one of the most wonderful pups in the world. He has such a soul and a personality. It took him a long time to come out of his shell, and he's still afraid of a lot of things (running water, loud noises, big men...and the car. Don't get me -started- on the car.) but I couldn't be happier with this big ol' love of mine.

He is a doofus.

For a quick reference, here is what he looked like the day after we found him:

Doesn't he look so sad?

And this is what he looked like this summer. Much, much happier. A lot less afraid. And surrounded by love, from now on.

A laid-back dude. It's a dog's life.

So that's my Cooper. How did you get your pet, if you have one?