Cooper was Neto’s mother’s dog. He came from a long line of stray dogs she adopted, all of them named Gary Cooper. Although Zelmira liked her dogs, she loved the real Gary Cooper the best.
The Cooper before this one shared the same Golden Retriever face and body. The previous Cooper, a guard dog who lived on top of the roof, was awarded special treats not shared by most rooftop dogs ~ a tent for shelter from the sun and the rain, and bowls of water and food refilled every day. But for the previous Cooper, that was not enough. One night, he jumped off the roof, ran down the street at full gallup and was never seen again.
When the new Cooper showed up, Zelmira welcomed him in. She told him he didn’t need to live on the roof. She let him stay on the patio and occasionally come in the house. One day, however, Neto arrived at our house leading Cooper on a rope.
“Where did this dog come from?” I asked.
“He’s my mother’s dog but she got in a fight with him. I rescued him just in time.”
“What do you mean they got in a fight?”
“Well you know how my mother can’t stand things to be out of order and this dog made a mess of things. He took one of her shoes and ripped it with his teeth.”
“And then?”
“My mother started yelling at him and hitting him with the broom. I decided to give them both a break and bring him here.”
Neto always wanted a dog he could go surfing with. He’d seen dogs on surfboards in the ocean, smiling and looking like they enjoyed the ride. He’d seen dogs playing in the water, chasing waves and running back and forth to the shore. That afternoon he took Cooper to the beach. But the dog was not an ocean dog. He cowered and shook. He whimpered and cried. He simply didn’t want to go near the water.
Not to be deterred, the next day Neto took Cooper in a small boat across the bay to Stone Island, a surfing village filled with hammocks and small restaurants. Neto figured that Cooper wouldn’t jump out of the boat into the water. Maybe a change of scenery was what the dog needed to learn to love the waves as much as he did.
Neto tied Cooper to a tree while he went surfing. He watched from a distance and Cooper seemed calm. Maybe even happy.
When it was time to go home, Neto came ashore, picked up his surfboard and untied Cooper’s leash. The dog took off! Neto is fast but Cooper was faster. He ran down the path into the jungle of palm trees. There was no stopping him. Neto was furious and then dejected. He had lost his mother’s dog. More importantly, he lost his chance of ever having a surfing dog.
But there is a happy ending to this story. Three month’s later to the very day, Neto was back at Stone Island with three of our guests ~ two boys from Finland and a girl from Australia. They were sitting at Rudy’s Restaurant, eating ceviche and drinking beer, when Rudy asked, “Where have you been? Your dog comes here almost every night, looking for you.”
“Are you sure he’s my dog?”
“Yah, I’m sure.”
“Do you feed him? Maybe he’s just some dog looking for food.”
“Neto ~ I know he is your dog. There he is now.”
As if hearing his name, Cooper came limping up the beach. He was skinny and beat up from being in a lot of fights but there was no doubt he was Gary Cooper.
The Finland boys helped carry Cooper to the ferry and take him home. We cleaned him up and gave him food and water. We stroked his back and told him we were happy he was home.
Cooper went back to live with Zelmira, no longer a frisky puppy. Instead, he was a tame old dog. He didn’t try to eat her sandals and she wouldn’t have hit him if he did. Zelmira loved Cooper and I think he loved her. They stayed together for a year before she decided to let him go to a cousin’s ranch, to live out his life chasing rabbits and avoiding waves .
