Yesterday, I lost a friend. He was one of the best friends I’ve ever had and it pains me to know that today begins the time in my life where we won't have some crazy story of something ridiculous he did for all of us to reminisce over for years to come. Yesterday, I lost a buddy. He was my buddy and I was his. Or at least I’d like to think I was his buddy. I can’t count the times when he would do something crazy and then we’d all laugh about it. His name was Shaggy, and he was a good boy. He passed Tuesday night in his sleep at the young age of 14—or so we like to think—no one is really sure. He wasn’t a pure breed. He was a mutt—I like to think part Boxer and part Red Bull poured into an Espresso. He had endless amounts of energy and no matter what the situation was he was always just moments away from darting up and down the stairs chasing imaginary rabbits. But, he also was the laziest of lazy dogs. He’d sleep until you got up, and never really cared if it was 4am or 1pm. He was great at being lazy. But it wasn’t always this way. Shaggy, unlike his demeanor would tell you, was a dog who had a rough start to his life. Shaggy was adopted from the Humane Society when he was about 6 months to a year old. By the time Laurence came along and rescued him, the small ball of Amber fur had been returned. Twice.
Listening to the stories from Leslie’s entire family, it was evident that Shaggy was apparently quite the handful as a puppy. Here’s an example. One day after leaving Shaggy to go to work, Laurence returned home to find his place ransacked. All sorts of items were strewn about and it looked as if he had been robbed. Upon further inspection, it was no robbery, but rather the handiwork of a mischievous and exceedingly rambunctious dog. He also ate the insides of every one of Leslie’s shoes. Not the shoes themselves, but the insides. He also ate a bed sheet, chewed a hole into drywall, and managed to somehow dig/eat through the bottom of a crate, through the carpet, and into the subfloor. In all honesty, he probably should have died many times before of some sort of intestinal blockage, but he didn’t. And we are all better for it.
There was a point in his life where Shaggy was unloved. As a result, he had some trust issues that were evident until the day he passed. He didn’t like flashlights or cameras. And if you did have a camera anywhere around him or pointed at him, he would look—or sometimes scurry—away. Whatever the case was, something had happened and it obviously was not a fond memory for him. He felt safest when underneath things. When we'd take him to the vet, he'd hide his face under my armpit exposing the rest of his body to the vet, allowing them to do whatever they needed while he was in his 'Safe Spot'. He had a crate—justifiably called his home—which was usually covered with something or had stuff on top of it to make it seem more like a cave. He didn’t need it, but he enjoyed being there. It was his Fortress of Solitude and he could spend hours in there, plotting his overthrow of the world or how he could trick one of us into giving him another biscuit. Even so, once he loved you—or figured out that you’ll be feeding him that day—he always wanted to be by your side. He’d do anything to have his butt scratched which came with the unintended result of turning him into a bolt of lightning. And if you took him on a car ride, you were now as thick as thieves.
Madison and Shaggy after a trip to the park.
Beyond all these quirks that he had, he was also a loving brother to our big girl, Madison. He taught her “The Ways of Shaggy”, as we like to call it. He taught her how to be great dog and we can see a lot of him in her when she plays. She’s not part Boxer—Lab and Dutch Shepherd, actually—but you’d never know it considering how she always wants to punch everyone. All. The. Time. That’s a trait she picked up directly from Shaggy, as that’s how they would play together before she outgrew him. Shaggy was a territorial dog and didn’t share very well, but he shared with her. He let her sleep in his beds with him and even let her sleep in his house. They rode in the back of my car together and he would always play with her at the parks, protecting her from other dogs until she no longer needed to be protected. He even taught her how to escape from a crate. You could tell that he genuinely loved her. While he wasn’t as successful sharing his ways with Keilani and ultimately Oliver, Shaggy always ruled the roost. He was the Original Recipe and they were the Extra Crispy. Even when he started getting sick, he always held his own. He didn’t let the two little ones bother him and would just sit and relax, looking over the land like a stoic Lion watching over his pride. He finally had what he desperately wanted, a family that loved him just as much as he loved them.
Then, the day came we had all been dreading as he started to take a turn for the worse. He wasn't eating. drinking or moving around much. He would just sit in his crate and not do anything. We all knew what this meant. We didn't want to think about it, but we all knew. His kidneys were shutting down. He didn't have long. Little did we know that he'd stick around for another month and a half. That last month was hit or miss where some days he would be his old self and other days where he wouldn't move. It was was hard to watch as the "Cranky Old Man"--who could never be defeated--started having trouble keeping his balance while just walking to the door. We all knew what was happening.
It's hard to think about the fact that he isn't here anymore. He wasn't my dog, but I loved him just as if he was. He was Laurence's dog, but he was part of everyone's family. Even my mother—who isn't keen on animals in her house—found a soft spot for Shaggy. It’s hard to even think of him as a pet. He was more than a pet. He was a full on functioning member of our family. He contributed in ways that only he could and we are all a little less complete with him gone.
One thing is for sure, we all have memories of him that will never fade. The crazy running around… The stuffed men that he loved so much (until he gave one to Madison and she promptly destroyed it)… His “Oh my God, I have to PEE!” dance… His hatred of football games on TV… His ‘poop and walk’ routine… Teaching Madison to escape… Teaching her how to dig… Teaching her to be lazy... Running his 'I just pooped’ obstacle course... His eyes bugging out of his head when on car rides... Being 'Space Dog'... How he ruled his domain… Helping him sleep off the anesthesia… His addiction to PupCorn… Chasing after Deer… Being my jogging companion… Always wanting to just go around the corner… Butt scratches… The endless amounts of dog hair…
Shaggy was a great family member, friend, and dog. He passed away in his favorite spot, surrounded by his best friend, Laurence, and his little brother, Oliver. His life may have started full of emptiness and heartache, but I can assure you that when it ended, he had more love than he could have ever wanted.
We’ll miss you, Shaggy.
