Mugsy and me

Anyone who has ever lost a pet will understand that I wrote this column with a heavy heart. There is never a way to fully prepare yourself to say farewell, even though we all know how the story will eventually end. My wife, Maggie, and I were forced to confront that heartbreaking reality last month. On March 25, we said goodbye to our dog, Mugsy. 

I’ve admittedly been slacking on my “Tom’s Take” columns lately, but readers of Halston Media’s papers might be familiar with the life and times of my loyal assistant editor. Mugsy was a 60-pound pit bull and boxer mix, handsome with white and brindle coloring. (He was once colorfully described by an elderly neighbor as “a sturdy fella.”) Even after turning 13, he never lost his puppy energy. Mugsy loved long walks, snacks, and naps beside our wood stove, and wasn’t shy about taking a seat at the dining room table. He would snooze on the couch in my office while I worked, and had been known to interrupt Zoom meetings and phone calls with barking fits and spontaneous face licks. 

He originally belonged to my brother-in-law, Matt, until his unexpected passing. In the wake of that tragedy, Mugsy became the family dog. He resided with Maggie’s parents for a year, and then found his place with us when we became homeowners. To this day, I’m still not sure who received the better end of that bargain. 

As sad as the ending to this tale is, we have been trying to focus on the memories of the good times. I have been thinking about Mugsy a lot since he left us, and certain stories never fail to bring a smile to my face. 

The Cinder Block 

In 2020, Maggie and I were forced to postpone our wedding due to the pandemic. To offset our disappointment, we took that week and embarked on a road trip to Virginia Beach with our dog along for the ride. 

In preparation for a day by the shore, we decided to secure Mugsy with his leash attached to a cinder block. I swear, this seemed like a good idea at the time. 

Everything was going well until he saw another dog on the beach. At this point, we discovered that the weight of one cinder block was no match for the strength of one Mugsy. The chase that ensued is still recounted regularly, and we often wonder if anyone else there that day tells the story of the two lunatics chasing their dog as he sprinted across the sand with a cinder block dragging behind him. 

The Heist

I know most people lavish attention on their pets, but I would wager that few dogs are as pampered as Mugsy was. He lounged on multiple couches, slept with us in a king-sized bed, and enjoyed bites of every meal that we ate. Despite all that, he sometimes took the opportunity to treat himself to a few extra helpings. 

Years ago, we were preparing for our first time hosting family Thanksgiving. Always the planner, Maggie made several pies ahead of time. The day before our guests were due to arrive, we both had busy days of work and last-minute errands, leaving Mugsy unattended with the baked goods on the kitchen counter. You can probably guess where this story is going. 

I returned home first, and it was immediately unusual that Mugsy didn’t come to greet me. I then found the evidence of what came to be known as “the heist of the century.” Finding him stuffed with blueberry pie and passed out on his favorite chair is a memory that always makes me laugh. 

Goodbye, Old Friend 

14 months ago, Mugsy was diagnosed with cancer. He responded well to chemotherapy and was as happy (and hungry) as ever, and we rallied together as a family. The treatments gave us more than a year of extra time and many more happy memories. But in the end, the disease caught up to him, and we finally had to say goodbye. 

Since Mugsy left us, my office has felt empty and the house has been too quiet. It still feels strange opening the fridge without my “poor, starving dog” looking at me forlornly and waiting for a piece of pepperoni even though he had just finished eating breakfast. 

I know we will eventually find someone else who needs a loving home. But for now, Maggie and I will just need to be sad for a while. We have received a lot of kind words and support from family, friends, and co-workers, and I would ask that anyone who reads this please give their furry friend some extra treats today. 

Pets are truly part of our families, and a blessing in our lives for as long as we’re lucky enough to have them. And I know there will be plenty of blueberry pie in heaven. 

Tom Walogorsky really wishes that dogs could live forever. Contact him at walogorsky@halstonmedia.com.