I meant to write something today for the 4th of July about the significance of being American and how much more thankful I am for being born in a free, democratic country after living in China for a year. But then, we had a small family tragedy on July 4, as our beloved family dog Schultz passed away, and I can’t seem to think about anything but him right now. (I feel basically exactly like how they feel at the end of “Marley & Me,” the book and the movie.) I’ve compiled all the photos I have of him in memorandum, see them here.
RIP Schultz, the love of my life
We adopted him into our family in 2002, when he was already a year old. His original owners were an elderly couple who had become ill and unable to take care of him; officially, he was a “rescue” pup. But I’d say if anything, Schultz rescued us from the tedium that would have otherwise been our pet-less lives. Few feelings can compare to coming home to see that dog rush out the door to greet us, so happy we’d finally come back home to him.
Schultz wasn’t just a dog – he was an institution. Everyone in two counties recognized him: the big, fat, silver dog who was always riding in the back of that SUV sticking his head out the window. He was a fan favorite at my softball games in high school; he never missed a family cookout or graduation party, where he was often the center of attention, galloping around and guilting unsuspecting victims into giving him the remnants of their hot dogs. He loved to go for rides and was spoiled enough to be frequently taken thru the drive-thru at McDonald’s for a $1 cheeseburger or Lickety Split (an ice cream shop) for a pup cup of vanilla ice cream and a doggie biscuit. Everyone who ever came to our house was at first terrified by him – 130 pounds of dog barking at them and running up to sniff them – but eventually came to love him as the big, fat tub of jelly he really was. He loved to lay in the sun and go for trips up to Grandma’s house, where he was always treated to some cat food (and occasionally a nice cat chase).
He would eat anything and defied the myth that “chocolate kills dogs.” I can’t even begin to recall the number of times my parents left bags of candy (particulary Hershey’s kisses) lying out as we went out for the evening, only to come back and find nothing but an empty plastic bag, no wrappers. I imagine he had some mighty painful times getting the foil out the other end! It was never really a surprise he was as big as he was… if you sat your burger down for half a second, he would inevitably be there, seemingly from out of nowhere, to snatch it. And if you refused to give in, he’d sit at your feet, whining or giving you the sad, longing eyes until you finally gave in and threw him a scrap.
We used to call him the “Velcro dog” because he was so attached to people; he didn’t like to go anywhere alone. I don’t think we ever had a guest come to our house who didn’t have Schultz popping in and jumping up to sit next to him or her on the couch within five minutes. If we were at home alone and I hopped in the shower, I’d often get out to find him sitting on the bathroom mat, just waiting on me (or more often, sticking his head in the shower and drinking the hot water as I tried to scold him and chase him out without laughing). My aunt, who lives next door to my parents, runs a hair salon at her house, and Schultz was the de facto greeter. Customers couldn’t help but giggle when, while getting their perms, they noticed a giant dog’s face gazing into the windows of the front door, wet nose smudging the glass, longing to come in and say hello.
More than anything, Schultz loved to love. Anyone who’s ever loved a dog can attest to their ability to sense things we can’t. I can’t number the times when I was feeling sad, and Schultz would know just how to make me feel better. He’d crawl up into bed with me, give me a few kisses and then snuggle up as close to me as possible, making sure I knew that I wasn’t alone and though just a dog, he’d do anything he could to comfort me and make me feel better. When any of us got sick, he knew just what to do. He’d come and lie beside us, not crushing or suffocating us as he was wont to do, but lying at an easy distance, keeping a watchful eye over us and reminding us we were not alone.
It's hard to believe he was ever so thin! Look at that trim, healthy young pup (in our first picture together)!
I don’t know why we get pets. We know that eventually they will all meet the same fate, likely much sooner than we meet ours. But, as with humans, I think the pain we experience when they leave us is more than made up for by joy they bring to our lives while they are a part of it:
Such short little lives our pets have to spend with us, and they spend most of it waiting for us to come home each day. It is amazing how much love and laughter they bring into our lives and even how much closer we become with each other because of them.” — John Grogan “Marley & Me: Love and Life with the World’s Worst Dog”
Aw, Brittany. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Keep your chin up, and remember all dogs go to heaven!
he knew we loved him even when im sure he knew he was dying. Everytime i went to check on him, you could see in his eyes that he knew what was coming. he looked so sad but layed in my arms and your moms and looked content. i imagine he was thinking the past nine years were well worth it: golf cart rides, treates, playing with prince and lunden, rolling in horse poop, getting sprayed by skunks, laying by the pool, hunting golf balls with jeremy and me, walking with your parents every morning, and eating anything of the paper or foil variety! its gonna be weird not seeing his oversized body slumped over on the recliner licking his legs all day.
My baby Bea, I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I remember you bringing him home all those years ago. You sat online for weeks waiting for a dog of his breed to show up close enough for “pick-up.” Never in a million years would we have guessed what a blessing the little guy (not so little, even at just a year) would be to everyone! As I sit and read all you reminisce of, I myself am here behind my computer at midnight, crying over the legacy that is Schultz. I remember the first time Olivia met him, and how gentle he was. She’d crawl over to him and pull on his ears, and try to chew on his toys. Haha! Then once she got older, after her initial fear, they would play fetch in the living room and he’d skid across the wood floor on his toenails trying to get traction. Just ecstatic to have made yet another friend. I know she only met him a handful of times, but I can bet the first thing she’ll ask when she walks through your parent’s door is “where’s puppy?” An uncontested fact for anyone that knew him would be that he was anything but forgettable. I can still see him sitting on the couch like a human, on his hind legs, completely upright…waiting for anyone to drop ANYTHING. Then as soon as you’d lay down to fall aseep during one of our movie nights (which you ALWAYS did), he was right there waiting to cuddle up next to your cold feet. I can still hear him barking back at us when we would mimic his deep howl, and Jeremy crawling around on the floor like they were brothers playing together. Oh Schultz, you were the mascot of Little York, and you will forever be in our fondest memories…
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