Before I dive into my standard depressing mix of TLO content this week, I’d like to pay respects to my main man, “Good Boy” Simon. He passed away unexpectedly in his sleep a few nights ago at the age of 12.
I adopted Simon 10 years ago this past summer, and if you’ve read any of our TLO content over the past decade, there’s a good chance it was either written or edited with him within earshot.
Like Aussie breeds tend to do, the guy never let me out of his sight. He followed me from room to room, chair to chair, probably wondering why that human guy stares into screens all the time. He basically became my black and white shadow.
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When I originally adopted Simon, it was to be a playmate for my other dog, Lexie (RIP), only to bring him home and find out he didn’t really enjoy playing with dogs.
It’s not that he was bad with other dogs. He’d sniff, say hello and was generally kind of submissive, but when it came time to actually play, he wanted no part of it. True to his Aussie / Border Collie roots, he was more of a “watch other dogs play, then walk around in circles and bark at them” type of guy.
For the most part, Simon was your typical canine.
When he was young, he liked to dig holes in the ground, chase squirrels, go for long walks and get head scratches. He also hated thunderstorms. When he was old, he liked to sit on his pillow, take naps, go for shorter walks and, well, get head scratches.
His favorite things in this world, however, were chew sticks. Ones like these. He lived for them. Every night around 7, he’d stir, come up to me with his tail wagging, and touch my hand with his nose, letting me know it was time to serve him.
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As any dog owner knows, losing a close canine companion is one of the hardest things we humans can go through.
This one seems especially hard.
Not to get too Debbie Downer here, but waking up in the morning and reaching over to pet and cuddle your dog, only to realize they’re dead, is an experience I wouldn’t wish on anyone, including some of the assholes I’ve written about on this website. You know, the ones I’d cover while Simon was always watching.
Seriously, I wonder what Simon would think while watching me hammer away at a laptop all day, writing about the Kevin Stitts and Ryan Walters of the world – a.k.a. those who serve as a constant reminder that dogs are better than people.
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Anyway, I’d like to thank Simon for being such a loyal little guy and a great companion to both me and my daughter, his dog brothers and sisters, and all the friends and family he met and bonded with over the years.
I’ve spent more time with him than any other life-form this decade, so this one really hurts. I’ll miss his odd quirks, his constant need for treats and head scratches, and most of all, having my black and white shadow trail me around the house.
RIP, “Good Boy” Simon. You were a great dog, and we're going to miss you.
Stay with The Lost Ogle. We'll keep you advised.
