Monday, December 5, 2022

His Name Was Mason

{Note to my followers:  The following is lengthy and it is not my expectation that you read it, nor do I expect comments should you decide to read it.  I wrote this for myself...to remember and perhaps even heal a little.  (Thank you to the blog pal who suggested this...at least in concept.  And thank you to everyone who reached out to me by message or email and all of you who left comments on my last post.  I treasure them more than I can express in words.)  I did not intend to go MIA (again), but the pain and loss was deeper than I even thought it could be.  And immediately after I lost him, I got COVID and had some other medical (and non-medical) issues come up. Hopefully this exercise will be a step back to blogging and the world that is far kinder and caring than my "other" world.}

His name was Mason...

I do not know why my son chose to name him that, but he did...and he was, after all, my son's dog...technically.  (Why have you never heard me call him anything other than "Snowdog"?  Well, back when this whole blogging journey began (forever ago), the mistrustful skeptical dubious cynical wary (overly) cautious "attorney" me used pseudonyms for family members.  After a while, he was always just Snowdog to me.)



Except he was never, ever, "just" Snowdog.  He was something someone wonderfully extraordinary from the onset.  But I got ahead of myself...back to being my son's dog.  When my son was 16 or 17, his friend got a Siberian Husky pup.  My son went with his friend to pick the pup up and learned there was one pup left in the litter that had not been adopted...and my son was smitten.  He called me at work and asked/begged/pleaded for me to say he could have it.  I said no for some very legitimate reasons:  We already had a dog (yes, Gazoo was a small dog...a little Shih Tzu...but a dog nonetheless) and two cats and one very small teeny tiny house.  My son was not particularly helpful in caring for those pets (nor was my husband) and I was stretched beyond my limits the way it was (for many reasons) and, somehow, I knew a new dog would, ultimately, also become my responsibility.  Not just feeding...but the training, attention, grooming, vet trips, etc. In addition, I wasn't particularly a "dog" person.  I was a cat person.  (Don't misinterpret that - I adored our little Gazoo...he was absolutely precious and one could not ask for a better behaved dog (and he was shed-less and hypo-allergenic) to boot. But cats aren't quite as needy and they are soft and cuddly...or maybe it was just a genetic thing on my part, who knows.)  My answer was no.



My son kept pleading.  He felt sorry for this remaining pup and suggested that it wasn't likely to get the best of care if it remained with its owner.  (Yes, there is a bit of attorney in him too I fear.)  I had a court appearance looming and didn't have time for this.  I finally asked him what kind of dog?  His answer: A Siberian Husky.  That sealed it.  I said absolutely not - they were runners, chewers and shedders.  (When my husband and I were first married, we had a Siberian we named Meisha..and Meisha was all three of those.... She got hit on the road in front of our house one night and, of course, I was alone to deal with it as my "husband" was hours away.)  And, lastly, and perhaps the real reason I was so adamant about no more dogs...I bond too deeply with my pets and cannot heal from losing them.  So my answer was still no and a resounding no at that.  And that was the end of it.

Only it wasn't.



When I finally got home from work that night, my husband said something about our son and dinner that night.  I responded that I didn't think our son would be talking to me for a while and told him about our conversation.  "Husband" became awkwardly quiet...and eventually confessed that he told our son he could have the dog...and, yes...he KNEW our son had already asked me and I had already said no.  I had been completely undermined as a parent and I was completely livid.



The puppy made his appearance a short while later and so life with Mason began...as did the bond.  He was impossibly adorable.  Of course...what puppy isn't? Especially a Siberian pup?? (Where are the puppy photos Robin??  I don't know.  The ones on the phone I had at the time disappeared and were irretrievable when the phone malfunctioned and died...and if I had any printed photos, they disappeared during WWR.)    He was timid and shy as far as puppies go - his favorite place to sleep was curled up in the pile of shoes that accumulated by the front door.  (Don't judge...our house was small, really small...remember?)


The days slipped by as they tend to do and Mason grew.  In hindsight, he was almost impossibly good.  He was potty-trained almost effortlessly, and did not chew anything.  About the only shenanigan I can pin on him is that one time (while under my son's watch) he got into my bags of wool strips. I don't remember anything other than the bags the strips were in being damaged but I realize many things are remembered more kindly than they were in reality.  It did, however, take some time to break him from trying to cross the road to get to the field on the other side; but eventually he learned.  He would often go to visit the next farm down when they got a little dog he liked to play with, and up until his passing, he would wander the wooded area to the east side of our property (his path is still visible) but somehow he learned to not cross the road and stay on our side.  



When my son bought his own house, we discussed "custody and placement" of Mason.  At that point, I was no longer working full time (I was teaching law at the university, but certainly not on a full-time basis) and my son was working more than full time.  Mason had gotten accustomed to going out when he pleased and had never been kenneled or chained.  (No judging please...that's the way it is done in very rural woebegone areas like Nod).   In addition, the house my son purchased was on a road that was much more highly trafficked than our little lane here in Nod.  We decided that it would be in Mason's best interest to stay with me and, truth be told, he was, at that point, more my dog than my son's.  And stay with me he did.




Much had changed in my life up to that point, and not always for the better.  But Mason was always there.  My son moved further away, my "husband" checked (further) out, I stopped  teaching and, always an introvert, my life unintentionally morphed more into that of a hermit's.  But Mason was always there. Always.



There's a reason that dogs are considered man's best friend - and no one took his commission more seriously than Mason.  He loved people with all his heart and even people who weren't dog - or even pet - people had a change of heart when they came to know Mason.  UPS and Fed Ex drivers loved him, brought him treats, and always took time to spend a few precious minutes petting him.  One day, however, there was a new and, apparently, skittish, UPS driver.  When he saw Mason making toward his truck, he ran back in.  Mason jumped in the truck with him wondering where his treat was.


  (During WWR, Mason would sit on this large rock waiting for the contractors to arrive.  Eventually the landscapers decided to landscape around it and officially dubbed it "Mason's Rock.")


One of those non-pet "converts," was a neighbor I had met a few years ago.  Despite my hermitage, she would venture over on occasion and Mason, who was starved, by this time, for human company other than mine, could hardly contain his excitement when she visited.  She started bringing him a new toy most every time she visited - sometimes, not even a dog toy - just a small stuffed toy.  He was gentle with his toys and if stuffing ever came out of any, it was a poorly sewn seam so, eventually, he accumulated an impressive collection.  When the neighbor visited, however, he would go and find the exact toy she had brought the last time - even if had been months prior -  and bring it to her.  Once he got it wrong and I told him so...and he went back and found the right one.


I know every one who loves their pet in the manner which they deserve to be loved believes them to be human-ish...and special in ways no other pet is.  I know this to be true...but Mason...ahhh, sweet Mason was smarter and more human than any dog should be.  I guess after years of it being just him and me and us being together 24/7 for the most part, he learned to understand things that dogs shouldn't understand.  What a bittersweet blessing - it made losing him an all-consuming, heart-wrenching, sorrow.



His name was Mason.

I did not even call him by his proper name in my last post.

He was so many things to me...and I called him by many names:

Snowdog, Mason Malone, Baby Boy, Puppy, and, yes, Mason.


His name was Mason.



 



30 comments:

Julia said...

What a touching story, Robin, and your post is not too long. I'm so glad that you decided to write about your beautiful dog Mason.

He was such a treasure to you and such a beautiful dog and your constant companion. I can understand how difficult losing him has affected you. Mourning is always a painful process. I want you to know that you have been missed and I'm so glad for this post today.

Warm hugs dear friend.
Julia

Heritage Hall said...

As I noted before, Snowdog was a beautiful creature to behold and now apprised of these insights into his personality, one can fully understand the great void you carry in your heart, Robin. I pray you gentle healing and
whatever restoration can be realized. Allow yourself the
time and hope.

Hootin Anni said...

Sorry ...I had to step away for a while to wipe tears away. What a beautiful post. Sad, but so beautiful!!!!
You and Mason had an unconditional bond. Your words touched my soul.

I hope this helped you with healing. And I hope you're feeling much better after covid.

((((Robin))))

acorn hollow said...

What a wonderful tribute to Mason (snow dog) Even though your husband undermined you at the time he gave you a great gift without knowing it.
How amazingly blessed you both were.
Sending you a hug
cathy

Linda said...

What a beautiful tribute.

Saundra said...

A loving tribute to Mason, the human in dog's clothing. I totally empathize your loss. Perhaps when the pain starts to wane you can revisit this post and read about the love bond you had with him. Sad tho was him leaving, reading this post warmed my heart.

JustGail said...

A lovely tribute to Mason. I too had to wipe a few tears away.

marly said...

The photos are wonderful. And your words confirm the magical spirit he was, and go right to the heart. I hope we read more of the sweet moments of his life. We are glad to see a post from you, and understand it takes a very long time to recover, and if it helps to share please please continue to do so. We love you girl! Maybe not as much as Magic Mason did, but we know those connections have no match. Can't explain it.

Anonymous said...

My son and daughter-in-law have a Husky. They adopted him as a young dog; he was a rescue pup. People don't understand that a Husky needs to be active and the previous owners had kept him in a cage all day while at work. So many things you spoke about your Mason...so reminds me of my grand-doggy. Huskies are as wonderful as they are beautiful. Our grand-doggy never destroys his toys. He now has a high pile of them. They are smart. They touch your heart. I was so sorry to read about your dog passing. I am glad you took the time to write this blog post and share your feelings. There are no words to say that can make you feel better...but just know that myself, and I am sure many others care about your heartache. I hope Mason will become a very special memory for you to hold on to. (Sandra)

PatT said...

What a touching story about Mason, who so touched your life and heart. Sharing your story touched my heart also. Blessings to you. Pat T

Penny said...

Sending love and hugs to you. I can feel your pain, and am so sorry.

Edgar said...

What a lovely and touching post... so very sorry for the loss of mason. All the snaps are so sweet.

oldgreymareprimitives said...

Robin,

I'm having difficulty typing as I wipe away stinging tears. What a beautiful tribute. Of course I then went down the rabbit hole over Howie. His birthday would have been this Sunday. I am also so sad for your pain.

I'll never stop missing Howie, remembering him, loving him, but it is a softer pain, as yours will also be someday.

My daughter's husky David is so like Mason in temperament. They are a wonderful breed and the best dogs I have ever found to hug.

You were a great mama to snowdog. Please take comfort in that.
Sending love. Z

NMK said...

What a beautiful , special tribute to your Best friend , Snowdog Mason. I know your pain , we lost a beloved dog 4 years ago ...it was worse than losing my parents ....my husband and I cried ourselves to sleep for weeks .
We had to get another puppy ....he has helped us heal and is very special too ....My sister in law told me , if a Dog didn't rip your heart of you , he didn't do a good enough job ....
Take care .....

Rugs and Pugs said...

I write this with tears in my eyes. What a beautiful tribute to your beautiful Snowdog.
I pray that you heal and treasure the years of memories.
xoxo

Prims By The Water said...

I read your post earlier Robin and had to leave before commenting because the tears were coming down too fast. What a wonderful tribute to Mason AKA Snowdog. He was a wonderful, beautiful, amazing, loving, smart dog. tzhe memories you have will remain with you forever and he is now waiting for you at the rainbow road like my pets (family members) who have passed are. Janice

Hill Top Post said...

What a wonderful tribute to your beloved Snow Dog...but a sad one. Thankfully you have some amazing photographs of this handsome fellow. From Lassie Come Home is the quote, "I don't ever want another dog," but just what if there is somewhere out there a sweet little girl or boy who needs a mother? That's how I ended up with my Millie, after having lost my dear Nell, and you know how much Millie now means to me. Just saying...

Primitive Stars said...

Evening Robin, such a heartfelt tribute to an extraordinary dog. Of coarse tears slid down my cheeks as I know the pain all to well, losing a beloved pet is so hard on the heart. I thought of you so often, checking in to see if you had a new post, thought of messaging but did not want to interfere with your heartache. Hope you are feeling better after Covid and finding some comfort these days. Love and hugs Francine.

kathyinozarks said...

Beautiful post, we still really miss and mourn our wolf Nikita-she was like a daughter to us so I understand your loss hugs

WoolenSails said...

I feel your pain, as much as we try not to, we become deeply attached to our pets.
It was wonderful to read about your journey with Mason and I hope those memories will help you to heal in the days to come.

Debbie

yaya said...

Sometimes, if we're lucky, a pet will find it's way eternally into our hearts. Mason was so beautiful and photogenic. I do believe our pets are intuitive and I'm always shocked when the ones I've had do something extraordinary. I had tears in my eyes reading this post as it reminded me of the dog and cat family members that have gone to the rainbow bridge. Hugs and prayers for your heart to heal and all the wonderful memories of Mason will bring comfort. For now, cry and remember and write. You're good at writing! Now I have to go blow my nose and wipe my eyes.

3millplainrd said...

This might sound strange but I miss my animals more than I miss family members who have passed. I remember the dates that they died. I've been through this too many times but always am willing to do it again. It's a tragedy that their lives are just too short.

janie said...

So sorry for your loss. We only have cats, but they are family each and every one. You lose a piece of your heart every time they pass.

May the memories Of Mason bring comfort to you.

Janie

Shrimpton and Perfect said...

So pleased to see you back in blog world, you have been in my thoughts. And oh, Snowdog. I haven't the words. So tough to lose one so precious. Sending you some healing love. Jean xx

Tina said...

My heart hurts for you. There is no love that can compare.
Peace to you Mason.

Dicky Bird said...

Robin....I'm bawling...what a wonderful tribute to an incredible family member!

Lori from Notforgotten Farm said...

hugs to you my friend ~ beautiful tribute xoxoxo

Salty Pumpkin Studio said...

My sympathies for the loss of Mason. Your words touch my heart. He was the most adorable puppy. I wonder if the shoes represented the grouping of his missed siblings.

Mrs. D said...

Hello Robin. I've wiped tears, blown my nose, and folded my crumbling tissue several times as I read your tribute to Mason. Amazing photographs! You've written the story of his loving warm soul, but also revealed to us--your loving warm soul too. He meant so much to you, and YOU meant everything to him. I'm so sorry you lost your baby boy Mason. I need another tissue.

Farm Girl said...

Dear Robin, That was a beautiful tribute. I do know and feel how hard it is to loose a friend like Mason. I am still six months later in the same place. I don't know if I will ever be back to who I was before loosing Sasha, who was as Mason, my sons dog too.
I had a Sheltie and who needed another shepherd in the house.
But as things happen his dog becomes Mom's dog and then a part of myself. I had Sasha to keep my feet firmly rooted to the ground. As it sounds like Mason did for you. I was never alone, now, I feel alone most of the time. Do you feel that too? In six months I have not really been able to blog because of the broken part of my heart. I sit down to write and nothing is there. Until of course, I read your post. It touched me very deeply and as I am sitting here crying over your loss and the beautiful pictures you have. I am glad you wrote it down. I am so sorry you have not felt well, but I hope now you are feeling somewhat better.
I think of you often and after reading your post, maybe I can move on. It is really a very lonely place to be, I always thought I was a cat person too, but I have never in my whole life have been without a dog. I thank you for sharing this part of yourself. Happy New Year.
Kim