Second chances

As we all know, Michael Vick got signed by the Eagles now that he's out of jail. In a lot of ways, I'm so glad that he went to jail for a long time and lost millions of dollars in endorsements because it sets a good example of "who cares if you're a celebrity" and to shed a little more light on dog fighting. Also, most importantly, that if you get caught, you'll be fucked; probably worse than Vick because you won't have the money to hire the high-powered lawyers.

What he did was appalling. It was terrible and unfortunately, it is done everyday by thousands of ignorant tools who do not deserve any sympathy or even the love from an animal. Normally I'm not a pitbull fan, I think they're scary and most of the people I've seen who have them only keep them as pets to make them feel more masculine. Pathetic. However, I don't believe that any dog should have been put through the kind of abuse that those dogs inflicted on each other just for the entertainment of assholes who should be euthanized and neutered so they don't create more ignorant miscreants.

I think it all has to do with the upbringing of a person. It just goes to show that you can take a person out of the trailer park but you can't take the trailer park out of the person. Even with the privilege, money, power, and fame, Vick went back to his old "roots" of a poor kid growing up in ghetto-like conditions. I hate people who bring up their upbringing as an excuse for their behavior; you have all the opportunity to change yourself and get yourself out of the ghetto (which sometimes makes me think why we waste so much time and money on people who can't grasp this concept).

Anyway, I do believe in second chances, however. I don't think Vick is 100% remorseful for his actions; I think he's more upset at having to re-create his image and to prove himself as a football player rather than a respectable member of society. I think, in fair retribution, that half of his earnings should be donated mandatorily to animal welfare groups, the Humane Society, rescue groups, etc. I know he'll have a lot to prove and to gain the respect back, but I highly doubt that he will even consider giving up his millions as a way to gain some kind of retribution. Unfortunately, I think he only has money on his mind and most likely, he only cried himself to sleep in prison because he was in prison; not because of what he had done. He was probably cursing the dogs and getting caught for his horrific actions.

Oh the places he will go...

Sometimes I wonder if Cooper has an imagination, and if he does, what he thinks about. When he was a puppy he would hold a toy in his mouth and trot around the house for about an hour with the most pensive look on his face. True, he might have been debating on where to hide the toy but the manner in which he was walking made me think of a little kid armed with a backpack and the threat of running away to find his own adventures.

Sometimes Cooper stares out the window for hours. Normally, this wouldn't bother me if I actually had a view, but as I stare at the side of the adjacent building, I wonder what Cooper thinks about. I hate how scientists assume that dogs are simple and incapable of having any kind of higher thinking; I like to think that Cooper dreams, daydreams, and imagines great possibilities.

Which got me thinking, what would a dog daydream about? Treats? Another long walk through a park he hasn't been to in awhile? Wistful musings of days that have passed? Yearning for more stimulation? Perhaps he contemplates his existence, loneliness, or maybe he thinks of more optimistic things such as, "My mom will be coming home soon and then she'll give me treats, love, and a walk!"

Since Cooper's rather on the emo side, I think he thinks about random emo subjects. What those are, I don't know, but I'm sure he composes poetry in his head.

Allergies and Sneaky Weight Gain

Last Friday Cooper had a vet appointment for a bordatella booster and to check up on his allergies. Thankfully, this year wasn't as terrible as last; I didn't have to bandage his paws to keep him from chewing on them.

Anyway, once we got into the vet and Cooper tried in vain to get back outside, the vet techs weighed the little guy while my chest puffed out in anticipation to hear them say, "He weighs 25 pounds!" Instead, I hear, "Cooper's 30 pounds!" My jaw literally hit the floor and I had an incredulous look of fury and disappointment that everyone noticed. I let out a loud, "Oh, Cooper!"while Cooper sat there on the scale, blinking up at me.

I honestly thought with his diet and ridiculous daily walks that he lost weight. He also blew out his coat and is looking sleeker, slimmer, and skinnier. I was so upset, he hasn't had treats in forever, I try to walk him longer and twice on weekends, and still, the little porker actually gained weight. I have no idea how that happened. God, I have to have the fattest shiba known to man.

Ugh, besides me disgruntled rumblings about his weight gain and not loss, Cooper's pretty healthy overall. He doesn't have mites or a weird skin condition, thanks to the switch to a grain free diet, his allergies have been consistently seasonal. The vet gave us a different medication and that'll hopefully sort out his problems. Cooper's now on a vitamin supplement for Omega 3 fatty acids and all I have to say is I'm glad that I gave Cooper jelly beans. He doesn't seem to notice a difference and just eats them like he eats jelly beans. Thank God because I don't think I can shove a pill down his throat and hold his mouth until he swallows.

Mr. Kim and Cooper

My brother is in town for about a month and he's staying with Cooper and me. Cooper's met him over Christmas last year and seems to semi-remember Mr. Kim. They get along really well and I'm glad that Cooper has some company while I'm at work.

My brother said that the first day he was here and I left for work, Cooper started howling and crying about 5 minutes after I left. He said Cooper was standing by the door scratching, crying, howling and making a ton of noise. Luckily, Mr. Kim was able to shut him up relatively quickly so no one should have complained. It kind of made me smile; Cooper misses me to some degree.

This morning, Cooper was curled up next to my brother while I was getting ready for work. It was super cute :)

Dog Sitting

Isn't it weird that, as owners, we think our dogs are near perfect? Or maybe it's because we're used to all the little quirks and idiosyncrasies our dogs have...either way, David likes to complain about Cooper and I complain about his dog, Leila.

I know Cooper has some problems; he walks too slow, will hold his poop for days, willingly makes himself sick, screams and cries when something annoys him, and generally doesn't like other dogs. But, he knows basic commands, is super easy going, not too mischievous anymore, and has the general apathy that I have come to love.

I feel like Leila could be a better dog with better training. I guess the same could be said about Cooper, however, since he is my dog, I feel like he's I dunno, I guess 80% trained. He knows not to jump on strangers, spit things out when you tell him, and is completely housebroken and I know I won't need to worry about accidents unless he has a terrible, terrible stomach ache. He is pretty good at holding it until I get home, and I love him dearly for that.

I read that the average trained dog has a vocabulary of 160 words. I think Cooper knows around 60 or so words for sure, 10 he knows but chooses to ignore, and the rest is all gibberish to him. He knows a few commands in Korean and I feel like that should count for two words.

Anyway, my brother's coming to visit for a month which will give David a break from watching my little drama queen.

Pigeons

I was walking Cooper yesterday when we came across a pigeon with a broken leg and wing. I wonder how that happened; it must be a treacherous life to be a pigeon in the city. Anyway, this was not Cooper's first encounter with a damaged pigeon. With his first encounter, he ran up to the flailing pigeon only to back away from it, screaming, when it started flapping more frantically in Cooper's face.

This time Cooper ran up to it, very excited, tail wagging, and a grin on his face. The pigeon flapped away a few feet, Cooper followed, and the pigeon flapped away again. This time in his pursuit, Cooper accidentally stepped on the pigeon. It gave a loud coo and Cooper took a few steps back with a horrified expression on his face. He held up the paw that stepped on the pigeon as the pigeon lay there, quietly waiting to die. All I could think about was Cooper's frame of mind and I'm sure it went something like this:

Cooper: "Oh my God! A friend! Wanna come over to our house? You can see my toys! Wait, come back, I just wanted to ask you a question...oh, so you wanna play chase? OK! Oh my God! I am so sorry! Are you ok? Oh goodness, I didn't mean to step on you, geez, you're not moving...are you ok? Um...maybe I should leave..."

Pigeon: "Oh God, please have mercy on me. Oh God, please don't...Oh God, just kill me now while I have some dignity left."

Alas, Cooper and I walked off on our merry way while the pigeon, who knows, I'm sure something came along and put it out of its misery or maybe it fell into the street. All I know is, Cooper could never kill anything. He just wants to be friends with pretty much any animal he comes across. He accidentally killed a fly once and I never saw him look so sad.

Just because...

I love Cooper and need to take more pictures of the little guy.

Here he is lying on my bed watching TV. Ah, to live life as dog...

And yet another shot of how Cooper always has the best seat in the house. He's not allowed on the pillows but I couldn't scold him since this is such a cute shot of the little furry monster.