Tuesday, December 16, 2008

the copper-topper

About a month ago, I woke up and got ready to go about my business as usual. I had places to go, people to see, and things to do. I went out to my truck to load a few things into the front seat that I'd be needing that day, and when I turned back around, there was happy little red dog who had been sleeping by the fence behind my truck. He sauntered over to me with a look that said something to the effect of, "Oh, you're up. So, what's a guy gotta do to get some food around this place anyway?"

Something tells me there's a conspiracy in the dog world. I have a feeling that Copper (umm, yeah not only did I take him in, but I named him as well...yeah, I know.) As I was saying...I have a feeling that Copper talked to the dogs in my neighborhood who all told him to look for the house with the little white pick-up truck because the dude who lives there's a total sucker.

Of course after a short internal debate (which I lost) I became a foster puppy parent again (yes, again). As you may have gathered, after a month of searching, I don't think I'll be finding Copper's original home, so I'm on to finding him a new home. I'm happy to say that I've got a handful of candidates who would provide a good home for him, but I'm presented w/ a new predicament...letting go.

As history has taught me not to name something you don't intend to keep, I fought the battle long and hard. I called him ridiculous things like widow-maker, death-dealer, junkyard, etc. in hopes of keeping our friendship casual. But, those of you who've trained dogs before know that if they don't have consistency (including their name) you can't teach them anything, so I dubbed him Copper for his color, but also because he was sleeping on a pile of old wire when I found him.

Since moving in, Copper has put a hole or two in my couch, chewed up a pair of work shoes, a hat I've had since college, countless cardboard boxes, his own water/food dishes, and he almost worked his way into some weed killer the other day. It's certainly my fault for not being able to spend more time with him...he's only acting out to get my attention. Even after all that, however, it still is nice to see him when I get home...unless he goes after my motorcycle seat...that's a deal-breaker.

Well, I'm pretty sure Copper will be in a new home by the end of this week. I know full well I can't keep him because I can't give him the attention he deserves - it's the same reason I had to give my dog Petey away earlier this year.

Alas, sometimes it really is hard to do what you know to be right.

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