As I left the unforgettable Bob's Garage last night after a round of beers with the soccer team, it was still pouring down that awful, somewhat snowy, slushy, freezing rain that Pittsburgh is famous for. Earlier that night, Coop had refused to do his business before I left for the game so I was not looking forward to the second try with him that night in the miserable weather. He still doesn't understand the concept of the umbrella. On nights like last night, I use my golf umbrella so that he can also walk underneath it should he want to. Instead he jumps like a mad hatter to try and bite the parasol part of it - and usually manages to fling muddy water all over me in the process.
In any case, by the time I arrived over the 2nd bridge and made it through the tunnel to the south hills on the drive back, I noticed the difference in the precipitation. The southern side of the tunnels was actually getting snow, and a lot of it. The main roads were fully covered and so were all the lovely hills that I have to drive up to get home. If it weren't for several years of training, I would have gotten stuck on the hills last night. Growing up, Dad's house was perched on the top of a hill in a small private community. To reach the main road from our complex, you had to drive down a winding gravel driveway, cross a short bridge and then head straight up a long, steep hill. In order to make it to the top of the hill without 4 wheel drive, you had to floor it coming out of the last curve of his driveway and over the bridge. Needless to say,I'm really quite good at driving up snowy hills now.
Once I reached the top of the hill though last night, it was really beautiful. My neighborhood is full of huge, old houses and trees and at 12:30 in the morning, Coop and I had the perfect winter wonderland setting for our evening walk.
Cooper adores the snow, so our snowy walks are a combination of fun and frustration. The fun part is watching him get all worked up. He licks every inch of snow (which can be frustrating when the snow is clearly no longer pristine), buries his face in it, drops down on his front paws with his wiggly little behind in the air, and then flicks the snow up and tries to catch it on the way down. He also exhibits the typical crazy lab behavior- very Marley-esque. He runs around and flips and turns and twists at top speed with a look of unabashed glee before rolling in the snow and then rubbing up on me. It's frustrating though when he pulls me down snowy hills and does his usual gig of refusing to heel. My neighbors must think I am horribly angry and mean as I scream myself hoarse- "HEEL COOPER! NO! BAD COOPER! COOPER DROP IT! HEEL! CoooOOOP!" The last "Coop" represents a warning turned reprimand midstream.
(I don't understand it- all my friends have said he walks really well on a leash with them, so why drag me through the hills of Pittsburgh? I feed him and pet him, so I should be getting the best behavior out of him. )
(I've just suddenly realized what my parents must have thought me as a teenager. )
Last night we also received Cooper's new crate. Originally, I crate trained him- or rather, he just immediately caught on that he would be stuck in a crate all day so he should not do his business there. We went through varying stages of crate acceptance in the first few months. First, he wanted to please me and went in easy. Then he knew I wasn't going to take him back to the shelter so he would whine and moan and beg for me to let him out. Then he just ran away from the crate when it was time to go in. Finally, he reached a begrudged acceptance giving me a sidelong sad puppy-eyes glance as he hung his head and walked in. After Thanksgiving, I decided I was done with the crate. I felt bad leaving him in a cramped space all day and all signs of his regular behavior pointed to him not destroying my apartment, so it seemed to make perfect sense.
For just over a week, I've been gating him into my kitchen and hallway and it's been going really well. However, he still needs a crate for when he's spending time at houses that are not mine, so we opted to buy a cloth travel crate.
I've never seen my dog shake so hard. Cooper wanted nothing to do with that crate. After forcing him into it and laying him down, I laid outside the crate and pet him for 20 straight minutes and even after that, as soon as I moved, he bolted right out of it.
I guess I'm re-crate training him again, although something says that since he's now comfortable in my home, I'm going to have to make a much bigger effort this time.
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