Survivors and Celebrations

Cooper's Story

Ten years ago a tiny puppy clamored up the stairs of our apartment to greet me. It was as if we'd always known each other. Named after Los Angeles Laker Michael Cooper because of his tall white socks, our American Staffordshire Terrier was an instant part of our family. My husband and I raised Cooper from an eight week old puppy. At around two years old, Cooper had knee surgery for a blown out ACL. Even back then we knew he was special, as it took months for us to diagnose his injury, and throughout what surely was excruciating pain he continued to charge along at full speed, adapting and using his front legs to support most of his weight. Because of this he had a unique build, heavy and strong in front, slim and lean in the back. He looked like a body builder! No matter where we went Cooper came with. He was welcome in all our friends and families homes. Was sweet and kind to every dog he met, and gentle and loving as all of our families started to grow. While his breed is often branded with a negative image, Cooper was the exception. Though he was a powerful dog, he never knew his own strength and as he aged he continued to act puppylike, maintaining a high level of energy and constant love of play. Around his tenth birthday Cooper started limping. He kept his front right foot off the ground so we knew something was wrong. But just as with his knee injury, Cooper remained stoic and never showed signs of pain. We took x-rays, pulled on his legs, tried to find what was hurting. The best summation our vet could devise was severe arthritis, which we immediately started treating. We tried all the western meds and when those didn't work went to acupuncture. Not once did Cooper flinch, yelp, or show any signs of distress. In May, after two and a half months of medicating and testing and really just trying anything we could, Cooper's body started showing us what was happening. His shoulder was swollen and I knew that something was really wrong. After more x-rays and a bone biopsy the diagnosis was finally in, Osteosarcoma. There was nothing we could do. Cooper was the first dog I had ever raised from a puppy. Both my husband and I trained him from the day he came home. He never chewed a shoe, dug a hole, or peed in the house. He always came when we called him. He never bit anyone, never picked a fight with another dog, and loved everyone who came into his life. To hear that at ten years old he was bearing down on his last days I was heartbroken. Watching the cancer progress, and it progressed so rapidly, was torturous. I couldn't decide what was worse, knowing how much pain he was in or knowing that there was nothing I could do for him. We loved Cooper until the very end. On June 22, 2010 our son, Cooper's sister Kaya, my husband and I said our goodbyes. His suffering ended. I hope that there comes a time when cancer, for humans and their pets, is something that can be helped or cured. I know Cooper is better off now, but I will miss him every day. Our house isn't the same without him.