Dog's Age
15

Entrant's Name
Cooper

LPDR Alum?
No

City and State
New York, NY

Your Dog's Story or Bio
Cooper's Tale: The Ultimate Friend:

First off, if Cooper wins this award, he's totally the kind of pup who'd share it with a dog in need—he’s that humble. Cooper and his identical brother, Bandit, were adopted by my sister Julie back in 2009, just outside Scranton, Pennsylvania. Now, a bit about Julie: she was bipolar and, during the adoption (which likely happened on a farm, for cash—hey, Scranton's wild like that), she was in full manic mode. She’d never owned a dog before but had just moved into a house and decided she needed some "dog love" in her life.

Julie treated those dogs like royalty—they were living the canine version of a rock star’s life, complete with Happy Meals and Pupperonis. The dogs adored her too, especially Cooper, who had a special place in her heart. Bandit, on the other hand, was just as manic and unruly as Julie, never listening to anyone (he probably thought he was above it all). Sadly, Bandit met an unfortunate end in a car accident after escaping the yard. It was a tragic day for all of us, but Cooper was the one who helped us all keep it together.

Julie once joked that Cooper was "bisexual with a touch of Asperger's"—a little quirky, but that’s what made him special. Tragically, Julie got sick with a fatal neurological disease at 52 and had to spend the last six weeks of her life in the hospital. Cooper was allowed to stay with her 24/7. He never left her side and even moonlighted as a therapy dog, cuddling up with other patients who needed a boost. That’s Cooper’s thing—making everyone feel loved.

After Julie passed, Cooper was supposed to move from Scranton to NYC with me. But my 81-year-old dad, who lived alone like some Sinatra-esque figure in Scranton, watched Cooper for a week while I was on a business trip. When I got back, I called my dad, who had never been much of a dog person, only for him to say, "Don’t bother picking up Cooper; he’s staying with me." NYC wasn’t a place for a country dog, he argued, but the truth was, my dad had fallen head over heels for Cooper in just one week. Having Cooper around was like having a piece of Julie with him.

Cooper's life with my dad was nothing short of epic. He was fed steak—cooked medium, of course—for every meal. They were inseparable, whether they were hitting up bars, playing poker, or maybe even going on dates (who knows?). My dad, the ultimate dog person now, even ordered food for Cooper when they were out. They spent winters in Fort Lauderdale, where Cooper became the most popular dog at the senior living condo on the beach. My other sisters, my wife, and I were thrilled that Cooper was once again there for our family, making my dad so happy.

In May 2021, my dad was diagnosed with throat cancer. While the rest of us were pretty concerned, my dad wasn’t—he’d had a rich, wonderful life and wasn’t afraid of what was next. But most importantly, he had Cooper by his side, which made everything easier. My dad passed away in July 2022, with Cooper never leaving his side, only taking breaks to do his business outside before rushing back to my dad’s side until his final breath.

After my dad’s passing, Cooper moved to NYC with my wife and me. We had a dog, Mia, who had always been close with Cooper during our visits. Cooper and Mia became inseparable—they were like a canine power couple. Cooper, ever the pacifist, let Mia, a NYC-raised dachshund, handle any dog that dared give him trouble on walks. She was his protector, and finally, Cooper had someone looking out for him.

Earlier this year, Mia, who was 13 and still in amazing shape, suddenly lost the use of her hind legs. We rushed her to the emergency room at 3 AM, with Cooper by our side. The vets said Mia needed surgery for a condition called IVDD. After the surgery, Mia was understandably down, but Cooper was there, lying next to her 24/7, trying to cheer her up. Unfortunately, Mia’s condition worsened, and we had to say goodbye to her. It was devastating, but I’m comforted knowing that Mia’s last sight was Cooper by her side, once again taking care of another.

After Mia’s passing, Cooper was heartbroken, as were we. But my wife, who volunteers at the ASPCA, suggested we try fostering dogs so Cooper wouldn’t be alone during the day. Enter Yodel, a 12-year-old terrier-Maltese mix with one eye and a nervous disposition. Cooper instantly took to her, becoming her guardian just like he had with Mia. Now, they’re blissfully inseparable—Cooper, even in his older years, still knows how to strut his stuff, and Yodel lets him, though we had to get him fixed a few years back.

In short, Cooper's life has been one of giving and loving. My family would be lost without him. He asks for nothing in return but your love and a little space next to you. If I could clone him, I’d send his offspring to the Middle East and Ukraine—because with Cooper around, there’d be no more fighting, just peace, love, and many chill vibes.