In the five years that I've had Cooper, I've not known him to be afraid of the water. He likes to run through the large puddles we get here at Martins Creek after a hard rain, he was ridiculously happy to leap and bound through the Edisto River. When we went to the dog park, he ran laps around the little pond and then turned into "Swamp Dog" as he attempted to wade through the murky water. When we were in Ohio, we went to Silver Creek a few times to play "fetch," and he would run around for hours with his "happy dog smile" on his face. Even at bath time, he will willingly jump in the shower, even though it's not his favorite thing.
So yesterday, when I was looking for something fun to do, the beach came to my mind. I like walking on the beach, he likes water, so it must be perfect, right? Bright and early yesterday morning, we got up and got ready to head to Isle of Palms. The perfect car dog sat quietly and patiently in the back seat and slept as we drove. Forty-five minutes later, we were getting out the car and walking towards the water.
When we got to the beach, I figured I'd slowly introduce Cooper to the idea of the ocean. He had other plans though, and ran towards the retreating water at full speed. He made it to the end of his leash about the time the next wave was coming towards us. For three seconds he had enjoyed jumping in the shallow water, but as that wave came in, it became apparent that Cooper was not an ocean-loving dog.
After his initial visit with the waves, I was able to coax him back towards the water. So long as the waves didn't touch his feet, he was happy. I wasn't about to call it quits after only five minutes, so I drug Cooper along, and we started walking up the beach.
Since I prefer to walk in the shallow water, Cooper was stretched to the end of his ten foot leash, trying desperately to stay in the dry sand. The beach was growing more crowded as time passed, so more than once I had to reel him in so that he didn't disrupt passing bikers, fellow walkers, kids playing in the sand, and other dogs. Whenever I pulled him towards me in the water, he eyed the incoming waves with great caution. Each time the tiny remnants of a wave came anywhere near him, he would leap at least two feet in the air, so as to clear the foam coming in on the wave.
Thirty minutes later, we turned back and headed towards the pier, our starting point. About halfway back we came across a couple and their yellow Lab, who was very happy to see Cooper. After a few seconds of conversation, we let the dog's leashes go slack and the dogs ran towards each other. Sniffing ensued, and after determining that neither was a threat, they began "play bowing" to each other and started to run around. The Lab was clearly a fan of water, and he immediately ran into the water and jumped into the waves. Cooper lay down on the sand, clearly dejected that his new friend had left him, but not about to go anywhere near the water. After we laughed at the dogs, Cooper and I continued on down towards the pier.
Our initial trip to the beach could be classified as somewhat of a failure. On the one hand, my plans to play with the dog in the water did not happen. On the other hand, the dog was thoroughly exhausted by the endeavor and slept for four hours when we got home. I'm hoping that in the future, he'll at least be willing to let the water touch his feet. Baby steps.
Speaking of the dog, as he is now in front of the patio door whining to go out and see Cyrus (a neighbor's ridiculously friendly dog), it is time to leave once again. Have a great week!
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