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Copper Whipple

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It's about time I had my own special feature in Polar Blair's Den!  Whenever Pack Leader (that's what I call my master) leaves the house, I sneak into the computer room, put my paws to the keyboard, and type my troubles away!  How do I get away with it?  Pupnotic suggestion!

About Copper
Copper Stats
Photos



About Copper:

    I was born on July 5, 2003.  At least that's what my humans tell me...I was too young to remember.  I don't know exactly where I was born, but I was found by my Pack Leader in Vinton, Iowa, USA.  Some nice people took care of me until I was adopted.  I spent my early days playing with a house full of pups including three sisters and five rat terrier puppies.

    On Friday, September 5, 2003, my life was changed forever.  My then-owners were selling us pups at a yard sale.  They weren't having too much luck with my siblings.  I was inside the house on the couch watching TV.  Pack Leader came to the sale and looked over my sisters and the rat terrier pups.  Although he thought my sisters were cute, he didn't think that any of them was the right dog for him.  P.L. (short for "Pack Leader") is pretty particular when it comes to choosing dogs.  The last dog he owned had died five years before I was even born and he was absolutely heartbroken.  From 1998-2001 he didn't even want to hear about getting another dog (P.L. is a pretty emotional fellow).  In 2002 he started considering getting a new dog and by 2003 he was pretty serious about finding a new "Man's Best Friend".  But it wasn't an easy choice for him.  He went to all kinds of pet stores, places that sold AKC puppies, even garage sales and flea markets, but no dog seemed just right.

    So it was on that Friday when the people who ran the garage sale told him about a little boy that they had inside the house.  At first, Pack Leader was not excited.  He wasn't too impressed with what he had seen so far.  In fact, he was tired, hungry, and just wanted to go home.  P.L. reluctantly said "Okay!".  That's when the lady let me out of the house.  I came outside to P.L. proudly prancing!  There were lots of people there, but P.L. was the only person I was interested in!  I was the only dog P.L. was interested in!  It was love at first sight!  The people who ran the sale didn't even have to ask P.L. to pick me up.  Pack scooped me up into his hands (I was very tiny then...only 9 weeks old) and looked down at me.  I looked up at him.  We were a match made in puppy heaven!  P.L. always tells people that there was just something about my personality that drew him to me.  I tell all my pals the same thing about him!

    So Pack Leader went to the local farm store to get a dog cage, dog food, dog bowls, dog toys, and plenty of other puppy supplies before coming back to the house to pick me up.  P.L. handed the lady 20 bucks and she gave him the puppy (Only 20 bucks!  Can you imagine!  I would've paid at least 16 million billion...at least!  How insulting!)

    Pack Leader took me home in his van twenty-some miles to his house.  It was a long way home and I was mighty scared.  Sure, he seemed nice, but was he going to take good care of me?  Was I going to have a nice place to stay and get all the royal treatment deserving of a puppy prince?  I couldn't keep from howling when we first left my happy home in Vinton.  I was so scared, I messed myself (Don't laugh, I was little then...it could've happened to you!)  We took a lot of curves and I slid around in the cage.  After banging up against the side of the cage, I decided to lay down and fall asleep.  The rest of the trip was much better...for me and for Pack Leader.

    When we arrived home, Pack Leader's mom had to clean up my "accident" and my little tushy!  Only the best from the very beginning, as she used a "Baby Wipe" moist towelette.  I explored my new surroundings with Pack Leader leading the way (he's aptly named, don't you think?).  But I wasn't too good at walking back then and Pack was a little worried.  My back legs were not as strong as my front legs.  For the first three days I lived with Pack Leader, he was very concerned about my legs building up strength.  They did, and I'm glad, because I do a lot of exploring these days.  But back then, this was the most I had walked EVER!  Up until then, I had always lived in town.  Now I lived in the country!  What a difference.

    Another of Pack Leader's concerns was the fact that I didn't eat much.  He knew I wouldn't have to eat so much because I was just a little puppy, but it seemed like an effort to get me to eat.  I was just a little intimidated by my new surroundings, is all.  And he even served really, REALLY good puppy food!

    Also at that time, I had not quite caught on to the idea of "chewing".  P.L. tried to get me to chew on a number of different toys for his own amusement, but I didn't see the thrill.  That didn't last too long.  After the first week I saw how much fun puppy toys were and have been chewing ever since!

    I was mostly inside the people's house in those days.  P.L.'s parents lived with him, and I entertained all of them with my puppy antics!  I used to lie on a towel and play and have all kinds of fun!  I used to sleep a lot, too, in those days.  Little puppies need their sleep and I got a lot of it.  There were only two times I piddled in the house, and that was in the first week.  And I NEVER pooed.  I am proud to say that I have never piddled in the house since.  I've always had very good manners, but when you're little your bladder is just not as strong.  I've got a bladder of steel, now!  If I ever had to "do my business" I would just let P.L. know in my own way.  We dogs have our ways of letting people know.  Any dogs out there who are reading this:  you know what I'm talking about!

    But at nights I stayed in a big cage inside a building that used to be used as a garage.  It was dark, and I was lonely without P.L.  I would often bark myself to sleep!  I had nice blankets to lay on and I was kept occupied with toys.  And of course I was let out periodically to "do my business", but I still didn't like it.  The cage accomodations lasted for about two months until P.L. and the family came up with a better idea.

    A big pen was set up near the house.  Very well constructed, I might add.  And inside the pen was a big doghouse just for me!  It was an insulated fiberglass structure shaped like an igloo and even had a door (although I decided to take the door off later; it wasn't necessary).  This was great because I was a lot closer to Pack Leader and it was a nice, big safe place with a big front and back yard to spread out all my toys.  But best of all, this land was perfect for digging!  I practiced my digging skills a lot and became quite good at it.  More about that later.

    By late 2003, winter was coming.  And my pen wasn't ideal for winter living just yet.  What to do?  P.L. and his family were ingenious.  They put plywood boards up on the north and west sides to keep the wind from blowing through and making me cold.  Then they put a tarp over half of my pen to keep most of the snow out.  The blue canvas tarp was reinforced by boards so it would stay on.  This looked quite nice and worked well for that winter.

    When spring came (as I would later learn it does), I got tired of that blue tarp flapping in the wind, making me scared.  It got on my nerves and I used all my puppy might to tear it to shreds!  I grew to hate that thing!  But it made my place look ugly so after all that P.L. realized a tarp would never work again.  He wondered how he would deal with that next winter, but fate led me to a whole new place to live later in the year of 2004.

    You know how some people get gambling addictions or video game addictions?  Well, my addiction was digging.  I was very good at digging.  Dig, dig, dig.  All day long.  Inside or outside of my pen.  I could dig HUGE holes in no time at all.  For a long time P.L. just filled these holes with big cement blocks or more dirt, but I kept finding new ways to dig around them.  After enough cement blocks, though, I must admit he stumped me.  I stopped digging so much, but it was still pretty clear that I could escape my pen and possibly get into trouble.  As I kept getting bigger and stronger and more handsome (notice how I sneaked that last one in there?) it was evident that this pen was not going to work for me anymore.  Something new had to be done.  P.L. thought about it and came up with a new notion, but I don't want to get too ahead of myself.

More of the story is coming soon!


Copper Stats:

Color- Light, reddish brown with dark brown on the ears and tail.  I've also got a white tip on my tail, four white feet, and a white tummy.

Ethnicity-
Labrador/Husky mix.  My mother was a Lab, father was a Husky.  Mama took care of me until Pack Leader came along.  Papa was a rollin' stone.

Full Name- Copper Phinneas Whipple.

Eyes-
Brown, and soulful.

Tail-
Curly, like a piggy!

Weight-
That's a rather personal question, don't you think?


Photos:

2003, September 5
2003, October (Early)
2003, December
2005, July 5
2005, October (Early)
2005, October (Late)