Member-only story
The Puppy that Found Us
Being the life and times of an outstanding dog.
We found Copper Rain, or she found us, at an outdoor sculpture exhibition in Liberty Hill, Texas in the spring of 1989. My wife, Donna, had recently been released from the hospital after she flatlined for 13 minutes during an abortive back operation. The cardiac arrest had almost killed her, and while her back was still hurting she was enjoying being alive.
We saw a show on public TV about sculptures that had been commissioned for the Bicentennial being found stored and forgotten, refurbished, and returned to public display. It was a sunny weekend in Central Texas, so we loaded up son Paul — then 13 and permanently attached to his football — and drove from our home in Austin to Liberty Hill.
There was a small puppy with a bleeding wound on top of her head guarding the exhibit. She was a rich coppery brown with enough black and white accents to give her a very distinct face. She followed us everywhere, but every time a car passed this rural school, she growled and tried to chase it, presenting a theory about the provenience of the wound on her head.
She tried to fetch Paul’s football, but her tiny mouth was not up to the task. At one point, she managed to tangle in Donna’s legs and cause her to fall, which frightened me more than it did Donna.
