I wake up after very little sleep. It takes a couple seconds to realize that I don’t need to get out of bed and check on him. It seems he never wanted to be indoors, but I still checked on him a couple of times each night. Tito was just a dog and I tried very hard to always look at him that way, but in spite of my intentions he seemed determined to prove me wrong every day.

He was a mutt. (Malamute/Lab/?) Rescued from the pound by my friend Hank Fox all those years ago in Mammoth Lakes, California. Every day, twice a day, regardless of the weather, first with Hank, and later with me, Tito would get long runs in the High Sierra, Coconino National Forest, near Flagstaff, Arizona, and finally here in Upstate New York. He “lived” with me these last 9 years because I worked at home, but he was a shared dog for most of his life.

Some Favorites: Good Scratches and Vanilla Ice Cream

With very few exceptions, Tito was always with me, literally always. 24 hours a day. 7 days a week. I could and did take him everywhere (OFF LEASH). He was welcome at the local coffee shops, the barber shop, he was the only dog allowed off leash in our local pet and feed store where he would walk down the aisles and with deliberate delicacy pick out his own treat, and he was welcome in the homes and businesses of all my friends and relatives. He had no bad habits even from a totally human perspective. He seemed to be able to charm anyone. He never ran up to or bothered people or other dogs. He was incredibly mellow, and calmly affectionate. In the 13 years I knew him I heard him bark (maybe) a dozen times, and when he did bark it meant something.

Fox Watching Last Summer

Because he liked (read demanded) being outdoors, Hank and I built him a little “room with a view” outside the back door of my house on the hill. Before the roof was on Tito realized it was for him and was immediately at home. One time when I had to leave town to visit my son in Maryland, it was decided that Tito would stay with Hank at his apartment, which was about a mile and half away. Although not immune to having the occasional “adventure” if bored, Tito was very trustworthy and after an evening walk, Hank fed him dinner outside on the porch. Checking a little later, Hank found that Tito had disappeared. Hank searched the area frantically for nearly two hours, both on foot and in his car only to finally discover Tito sleeping peacefully in his doghouse at my place. It was simply time for bed. Conversely, if Tito ever disappeared from my house at night I could always find him 45 minutes later on Hank’s porch. He just wanted to visit his “other dad.”

Semiwaterdog, He Never Got His Head Wet

When I got a new car a few years back, I didn’t want Tito, who loved to swim, getting in the car wet. In one afternoon he learned to shake well and let me towel him off before getting in. When he was dry he’d stand with his nose to the door ready to just jump in. Whenever he got back to the car wet, he’d stand away from the car or by the trunk after shaking because that’s where the towels were. I didn’t have to say anything after the first day. He was 12 when he learned this behavior. I’ve had 8 dogs in my life and I’ve loved them all dearly, but Tito was by far the easiest, most endearing creature I’ve ever had to deal with.

The last couple years he slowed down of course. I had to help him in and out of the car. But until the very last morning, he was always ready to go, even as his body began to betray him. Friday morning however, I knew the end was finally here. Three times in the past two years I thought I was losing him, but he always came back, his big high country heart refusing to quit. The past couple weeks had seen 6 visits to the vet and I knew this was different. I helped him get to his feet once, but he collapsed and couldn’t get back up. After sitting with him a while and realizing what had to happen, I called Hank. Hank in turn called another friend and the three of us were with him when the vet, Bart Forlano (I mention his name because he’s truly one of the nicest people I’ve ever met) arrived. At the end Tito could hardly raise his head and he died with me cradling that beautiful face in my hands.

I have a hole in my heart and in my life. Thanks so much to the many people who have written, expressing their sympathy, especially Chris Clarke and PZ Myers who mentioned Tito on their weblogs. In a way, it was only fitting that they did, more folks locally knew Tito’s name than mine; I’m proudly known as “Grampa Tito” to my granddaughters. As I said, he was just a dog, the best one you ever even met.