My husband took our dog to the vet last Monday, and came home with an empty collar and a broken heart.
Kuiper was an apartment dog. He belonged to a co-worker of mine who had just gone through a divorce. That divorce cost Kuiper half his pack, including a little girl and a cat. He was alone for most of the day, and it made him nervous.
His name was a compromise: the other half of his family (in happier days) wanted to name him "Cooper," after a dog on television. Instead he was given a name that vet staff in 4 locations had trouble with. "It rhymes with sniper. Diaper. Typer. Wiper." Nothing stuck, until they realized he wasn't just a dog. He was also a cash cow, belonging to people who believed in preventive care. After the first thousand bucks or so, they learned to pronounce his name properly. (Our name too, by the way.)
I wanted a second dog because our first dog was also alone a lot. She looked so sad, watching us get ready for work. A friend for her, a companion, would be nice, I thought. It was a great idea, except they didn't really like each other very much. They did, finally, learn to cooperate and get along.
It wasn't difficult to get along with him; Kuiper was a good dog. (Well, he did body-slam my daughter's dog into the swimming pool.) He didn't steal food, for example, or bite, or even snark very much. When the cat tried to cuddle, he was more chagrined than angry. When Kaylee barked at him to move and quit blocking the hall, he would sigh and move. Eventually. A millimeter at a time.
He was afraid of so many things: fireworks, gun shots (so much for hunting), thunder. Also "hard" shoes - men's dress shoes terrified him. A bicycle - our bicycle - parked in the yard, was a dangerous object to be assaulted and barked at, every time he saw it. Every. Single. Time.
Throw a tarp over something, and it became a terrifying monster.
The things that didn't terrify him, he mounted. So embarrassing. At least it was limited to other dogs ... he was otherwise pretty social, and behaved well in dog parks and on walks. He liked children. He was protective of me, and stayed close when Steve was away. When he noticed I was inclined to fall over, he started walking a little behind me. Unlike Kaylee, who knocked over anything in her way as she raced to murder the delivery drivers, Kuiper waited for me to go through a doorway first.
Although he was an old dog, he learned these new tricks to please us. And in the past month, he made our hearts soar when he finally learned to jump into the pool instead of using the stairs. Whatta champ!
Good-bye, Kuiper. You made us happy, and we love you.
