My Dogs
My Dogs
When my father consented to getting a dog, he handed me a massive book of every AKC dog breed and told me to research what we should get. I was 12 at the time, so what I noticed first was that the dogs got bigger the deeper into the book I went. So, naturally, I flipped to the back. That decision has rippled through the rest of my life, as you’ll see.
Macabee
Maccabee joined our family on the third night of Hanukkah, hence his name. He was a tough guy, always pushing himself between us and whoever was at the door and patrolling the house at night before grabbing his spot on the couch to go to sleep. But he was a goof too and loved to lay on his back squeaking a giant rubber pacifier toy.
My neighbors poisoned him when he was just a year and a half old; Mac never got the chance to fully grow up. But his time with me was so powerful that he made me a Mastiff man for life.
Zachariah
Zachariah was the prophet who lifted the people out of their time of despondency after the time of the Maccabees. What a perfect name for the dog that joined our grieving family. Zack couldn’t have been more different from Mac. Literally afraid of his own shadow, Zack often tried to protect us by getting us to run away from things with him. But he was smart and loving and a wonderful companion. I still remember how he’d hook my finger around his front tooth and pull me to whatever he wanted, and how he’d come into my room first thing in the morning, lay down on the floor, and lift his paw to show his belly and ask for a rub.
Boaz
I had a dream one night that I was hosting a gathering filled with people there to offer their condolences for Boaz’s death. It really tore me up until I realized the off-kilter details that told me this wasn’t real. That woke me up and I found myself in my bed, in my room, in my house and all the details were right.
But Bo was still dead.
The grief paralyzed me so when I woke up from what turned out to be another dream and found Bo standing bedside with bright eyes and a wildly wagging tail the way I did every morning, I couldn’t move. He noticed, got calm and serious, and without asking climbed into bed and put his head on my chest. He laid there and let me hug him until I felt better. He knew when that was too, because the puppy energy that he kept his whole life returned and he leaped over me and beckoned for me to follow him as he ran downstairs to begin our morning.
And that was Bo.
Joey
This little monster showed me that while English Mastiffs are clearly a superior breed of dog, others have their own gifts to offer the world. Joey was fierce in everything he did, from hunting food to loving. He didn’t care what you thought about him, if he decided he liked you, he was going to love you. He would sometimes crawl into my lap seeking comfort while I was scolding him for stealing food (again). That melted my heart every time. No scrap of anything edible was ever safe from him, and he was smart enough to open doors, zippers, snaps, and screw-top containers. But he also never let me sit down without cuddling up to me, and the almost 16 years we spent together was time I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Baldr
Ah, my Bal-dog. This big beast looked half bear. He was a king stoic, unflappably calm no matter the circumstance with a gift of soaking every room he entered with relaxed energy. Possessing a genius-level EQ, he was a natural therapy dog and just to cement how perfect we were together, he hated running and loved strength training. I couldn’t have loved him more.
Snoopie
Snoopie came to me through a relationship. My girlfriend at the time was terrified that Baldr would eat her little sweetie, but when they met on a walk, Snoopie immediately launched himself at Baldr and then proceeded to stalk Joey, the big man in the prison yard who wanted the top spot in the hierarchy. He loved spending the day on my lap as I typed, and if he wasn’t there, he was stalking rabbits in the yard with Joey (thankfully he never caught any) or snuggling with Bal, whom he came to love. Snoo was a tiny puffball with an oversized personality who left his mark everywhere he went.
Sigurd
I doubted Sig was a Mastiff for a while. He was a live wire, sprinting after his tail so fast he blurred and tearing through the house in fits of zoomies. Mastiffs don’t get zoomies. Eventually that crazy electricity subsided a little (just a little), and Sig calmed down enough to show how big both his brain and heart are. This boy is brilliant, and I love watching him figure things out, from how to untie his knotted tug toy (which I re-tie for him every time) to how to be better dog on walks. He’s as soft and tender-hearted as his namesake and loves to sit on my feet as soon as I stop moving, leaning back against my leg and staring up at me with a goofy, loving smile.
