Shasta during a 2006 hike in Salida, where we also attended the FIBARK festival with my friend, Doug. This is one of my favorite photos of her.
It’s early morning in Colorado, dark clouds dot the sky outside . . . sort of like how I am feeling right now. I have been sick the last few days, with the flu. However, this isn’t the reason I am feeling bummed out and sad, tears coming to my eyes as I type these words. Yesterday, my Mom told me my dog, Shasta had passed away while I was on my trip to Vietnam. Shasta was almost 15 years old. She explained that Shasta had been really sick the week before my trip, and they finally had to take her to the pet hospital on February 12th, where they put her to sleep. My mom made the right decision not telling me while I was away on my trip, as that would have really affected me while I was in Vietnam.
Shasta and I at the Park County Shelter, the day I got her in early July, 2000.
Both my mom and step dad, Dennis, were with Shasta when the vet put her down. I’m grateful she wasn’t alone when she left us. It’s hard to express my feelings right now, as I am still processing the fact she is gone and I will not see her during my trip to California in May. Instead, I will tell you why I loved Shasta and try not to dwell on her being gone . . .
Shasta in front of our mountain home in 2003.
On July 2nd, 2000, I got Shasta from the Park County Animal Shelter. Easy choice as her and I bonded immediately. Her bright eyes, wagging tail, and jumping on the shelter cage fence when I first glanced at her, sealed the deal. I decided to take a few days off, along with the 4th of July holiday to get acquainted with Shasta. We were inseparable, she went everywhere with me, riding in my jeep.
Shasta performing her “play dead” trick.
During the first few months of our friendship, I also started training her. Eventually, she was able to do many tricks, e.g., jump through a hula hoop, roll over, play dead, shake hands, guess which hand the treat was in, get on her haunches and beg, turn in a circle on command, etc. Hands down, the smartest dog I have ever seen or been around. My friend, Kris S., was the activity director at the Evergreen Care Center. She was so impressed with the tricks Shasta could do and consequently, she asked if I would bring Shasta to the center and entertain the senior residents? Of course I would . . . I was so proud of Shasta after her performance.
Shasta would do her “beg” trick on command (especially when a treat was involved). I had never seen a dog sit on her haunches, the way she would, while doing this trick. Amazing.
Shasta didn’t travel the world as much as I did, but she certainly wasn’t “provincial” either, e.g., going on many cross country trips with me, including a 3 month Western States and Canada (British Columbia) trip we did with my friend, Katie and her 2 dogs. Shasta also traveled to Arizona, where I visited my friends, Mary Lou and George Brown, as well as my cousins, Diana and Eric, in Sedona.
Katie and her two dogs, with Shasta and I, during our 3 month epic trip across the Western states and parts of Canada.
Shasta had many friends, as she befriended cats, dogs, and people equally. When I lived in Morrison at my mountain home, I would often travel and my friend, Rex, would watch her. Rex was like a second “father” to Shasta and I would be remiss without mentioning him and the love he showed Shasta. Rex’s home had over 40 acres and a pond too, i.e., Shasta loved roaming and exploring around Rex’s property. Others who have taken care of Shasta when I was on vacation or business travel, include Peter and Sue, Greg, Bob, Kerry, Elizabeth, Connie, and Kris. At the Mountain Club, I attended AA meetings and Shasta would undoubtedly accompany me. She became a regular fixture there and was practically adopted by the members of the club. Thank you all for the love and kindness you showed Shasta.
During another hike in Evergreen.
If Rex was like a second father to Shasta, my mom, Dolores, was like Shasta’s mother (grin) . . . In 2006, I was assigned by my employer, U.S. Bureau of Reclamation, to Folsom Dam, Sacramento, California. This was going to be an extended detail and I brought Shasta along with me. Shasta stayed in Sunnyvale with my mom and Dennis, along with their two dogs, Dolly and Eddie, while I worked at Folsom. On the weekends I would visit them. During this time, my mom and Dennis lovingly took care of Shasta, taking her along for walks in the morning and afternoon, at the park near their house. A wonderful place because usually there would be 3-6 other pet owners at the park and Shasta was able to play with all these new friends. Fast forward 4 years later, I sold my mountain home and moved into a condo . . . Which Shasta absolutely hated. The first couple of weeks there, I could see this wasn’t going to work. Shasta loved my former mountain home, which had plenty of acreage. Frequently, she would visit her “boyfriends” at adjacent properties (much to my chagrin). In short, she was not going to be happy living in a condo. Rex would have lovingly taken her in, but my mom also offered her a home as well. Shasta was already 10 years old and although, she was still very active, I knew altitude took its toll on pets. It was an easy decision, as I remembered how much Shasta loved living at my mom’s house during my 2006 assignment to Folsom. Mom and Dennis, thank you so much for the love and care you have showed Shasta during these last 4 years.
In Sedona, Arizona, at my cousin Diana and Erik’s house.
Shasta has had some amazing adventures and comedic moments. During one hike, at the trail head entrance, she confronted a bull elk, where both of them stood nose to nose. With a low, soft voice, I said, “Shasta come here . . . don’t bark . . . come here Shasta.” Fortunately, they only had a “stare down” for about two minutes, before the bull elk got bored and walked away and Shasta stayed where she was. Whew!
In Scottsdale, Arizona, at Mary Lou and George’s home.
Another time, I was working on my computer in my home office and I heard her incessant barking outside in the front of the house. I got up to investigate, using the house door to the garage and as I opened the door, I noticed two things; 1. Dog food all over the garage floor; and 2. A large, black furry butt sticking out of the garbage can I used to store Shasta’s dry dog food. Oh oh . . . Apparently, I had forgotten to close the large garage door and a bear decided to have dinner, with Shasta and I footing the bill. With one hand on the door to the house and on the top step of the 3 step landing to the garage, I yelled, “Hey, what the hell is going on here . . . ” The bear removed its head and body from the garbage can to investigate, then fully extended on hind legs, and roared back at me. Shasta continued to bark and I roared back too (actually, I think I used the F word really loud). Apparently, this was sufficient for the bear to run off. Believe it or not, this happened another time a couple of years later with a much larger bear, albeit, the bear was on my driveway and didn’t actually enter the garage. No, I didn’t “roar” back at this particular bear. Both Shasta and I kept our distance during that incident.
Our favorite place to hike was probably Maxwell Falls, Evergreen. This is the St. Bernard rock (at least, that’s what I christened it) immediately overlooking the falls. Shasta and I would hike here or Indian Hills, almost weekly and sometimes, even more frequently.
Also, I will never forget the infamous Thanksgiving dinner at Kris’s house. First, some background . . . Kris, had two wonderful dogs at the time, Ozma and Kacey. Shasta was pals with both of them. Her daughters also had pets too. Anywho, all of us were there, along with a couple of other guests, with their pets. I am not certain, but it’s quite possible that the pets outnumbered the humans that day . . . and all of the pets were in the house. LOL. Prior to dinner, all of us heard this loud gasp or yell from the kitchen. I call out, “Kris, how’s dinner coming along?” Kris nonchalantly walks into the living room holding a dish cloth, which is on fire and says, “Oh, pretty good, except for this small problem.” We all laugh as she puts out the burning dish rag. A half hour or so later, she comes out with a hot serving dish of stuffing, which she places on a foot stool to cool off. Wrong decision. I am not certain, but I think Shasta or maybe Ozma, was the ring leader, knocking the stuffing off the foot stool and of course, this was a signal for the dogs to begin their Thanksgiving dinner. Hilarious. Kris’s response, “Fortunately, I made two servings of stuffing.” Typical Kris. Cool, calm and collected.
Shasta shaking hands. This was taken at the Mountain Club in 2000 or 2001.
I will share one other adventure I had with Shasta. I know my friends, Kris, Barb, Bob, and Elizabeth will probably remember this . . . We were hiking in Conifer, with all of our dogs. We must have had 5-6 dogs with us at the time. The trail was wide, allowing for all of us to walk abreast of each other, with our pets near our sides. While walking, we hear this low rumbling, which got louder and louder and louder. We stopped and listened. Suddenly, a herd of deer, numbering at least a hundred or more, crosses our path, no more than 40-50 feet in front of us. We were mesmerized by this stampede. Not one of us moved, not even our pets. This was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen in my life.
Shasta at one of the many lakes and rivers Katie and I visited during our trip across the Western States and Canada in 2008. Shasta was 8 years old at the time, but had so much energy, she would play this game all day if allowed to do so. Her “Chucka Ball” toy was another favorite thing she liked to do, where I would “chuck” a ball and she would chase after it. She continued to want to play this game even after cancer took her hind leg 15 months ago.
I am so grateful for having Shasta as part of my life. I will never forget the joy, love, and happiness she brought me and others who knew her. I will miss you very much my friend.
One of the last photos I have of Shasta. This was taken at my mom’s home. Her hind leg was already amputated, but for Shasta, it was no big deal – she could care less. She was a very happy dog and nothing ever got her down.
Around The World With Steve 
sorry for your loss, dude. Losing a long time pet is one of the hardest things to go through
Thank you Craig (also for your email as well).
Big Hugs!! Maria
Hi Maria . . . Thank you very much cuz. Hurting a bit right now, but this will pass. I hope you and James are well!
Steve
Losing long-term dogs is tough business, blade. I’m with ya. We had to put Ursa, our black shepard female down in 2006, and we took the Snarkkettes with us to the vet. Everybody was in the room when he put her down, as we petted and talked with her. For the kids, the Urs was there before they were, so their young lives always had her around, like a big sister. She looked out for them, slept in their room. Mrs. Snarkk never hesitated, it was the right thing to do, the girls were part of the Urs’ life, they had to be there when she left us. We got her ashes back in a nice box (I assume its all her, supposedly it is since we paid for it), and always thought we’d spread them back in Maryland, which is where we lived when we got her at the local SPCA. She was a Maryland dog. When we went back to DC with the Snarkkettes a few years ago, we thought about it, and decided against it. So, she’s still with us on our fireplace mantle. When he goes, we’ll big-time miss the avatar mutt, too…
Although I wasn’t with Shasta when she was put to sleep, I know what you are talking about snarkk. I did the same thing in 1998, with my dog, Camus, who passed away when he was also 14 years old (same age as Shasta). It was quite peaceful and serene, with me petting Camus as he passed into his new life. My mom told me the same thing happened with Shasta – she wasn’t alone and was able to pass with my mom and step-dad petting and talking to her. My mom also said that they took Shasta’s ashes to the Santa Cruz mountains and spread them out there.
Good story, blade. I really like the name Shasta. Know what the younger Snarkkettes middle name is? Trinity. Yep. I think I told you this, my mother was raised in Weaverville, and I have big time young kid memories of being up there in the summertime, at my grandma’s house, and fishing in the river, or going up to Trinity Lake. Some of my mother’s relatives were old time founders/settlers of that area up there, her father used to work the LaGrange gold mine. Her oldest cousin ran the general store for ages, and was the chief of the volunteer FD forever. Her aunt was the grand marshall of the 4th of July parade one year. Some of my great great grandfparents have their photos on the wall of the museum in Weaverwille. The old dudes with long long beards out of the 1860s are awesome. Still do go up there, when I have a chance, which is unfortunately not much anymore. A good recent memory a few years back was my brother and I were fishing up in the river, he caught a small steelhead (4 lbs or so), and we brought it (dressed) into the LaGrange Restaurant mid afternoon. We came back for dinner around 7 and they cooked that puppy (oven baked somehow) and put it whole on a beautiful platter as we talked with some of the locals, one of whom had known my mother as a kid. Great stuff…
Well, you guessed right – Shasta was named for the Shasta area, lake or mountain (take your pick). My ex-wife and I back packed the Trinity Alps a number of times. The last time we did so, we set up camp near a river and apparently, our pup tent wasn’t on as level a surface as we had thought. During the night, it started to rain and although our tent was water proof, some how, some way, a significant amount of rain water got into the tent, settling in on my side, about an inch deep. I was shivering throughout the night and finally, my wife said, “what’s going on? Why are you moving so much?” I responded, “I’m in about an inch of ^$%@##$(* water and I’m freezing to death.” LOL. She moved over and with our dog, Camus between us, I slowly began to warm up. Damn, was I miserable that night. When we woke up, we forgot to put our clothes in the Hefty garbage bag (we brought along for such a situation), so they were wet and that caused us more misery as they took a couple of hours to dry in the early morning sun. Ugh.
They have a fish hatchery at Lewiston and I would often be given salmon to take home by the game warden, especially during the spawning season. Good deal. Excess fish that they autopsied, they would give to the local Indian tribes, as well as sister Federal agencies in the area, including ours.
Trinity Alps is, happily, a fairly unknown area still. Great place to backpack, as long as you don’t run into dope operations in lower elevations. Mrs. Snarkk and I in our unmarried days did a three day pack up into Canyon Creek lakes high country above Junction City. Beautiful. One morning an 8 or 10 point buck just sauntered into our camp, looked at us, and slowly walked out. Lots of bear sign around, too, so you have to be wary a bit…
Yes, I am familiar with that area as well snarkk. By the way, a couple of days ago, you mentioned Susanville – so, it sounds like you’ve also explored that area as well. I love the Mt. Lassen National Park and McArthur–Burney Falls State Park, the latter being one of my favorite parks to camp. My ex-wife and I have climbed Mt. Lassen a few times. Usually takes no more than a half day to climb. The 29 mile Main Park Road for Lassen was constructed between 1925 and 1931, just 10 years after Lassen Peak erupted. Near Lassen Peak the road reaches 8512 feet, making it the highest road in the Cascade Mountains. It is not unusual for 40 feet of snow to accumulate on the road near Lake Helen.
I’ve been to the Lewiston hatchery. Pretty big operation. Don’t get me started on anadromous fishery management in the Shasta/Trinity/Klamath area… 😉
So sorry to hear about Shasta. She was such a happy, outgoing dog. I always looked forward to seeing her at the club. Let the tears flow, my friend. Losing a dog is never easy.
Your post is a beautiful tribute to Shasta. When we lost our girl, Gidget after 14 years, I fond writing down our memories helped, not ease the loss, but to honor her life and her unparalleled contribution of love and joy. Someday, since she was a true mountain doggy, we’ll bring her ashes home, where she loved to be.
We who love the four-leggeds find our ways as best we can. They, on the other hand, always seem to know the way through. They lead. We gladly follow. Shasta has gone ahead. I think she’ll keep the fire burning, waiting for more long walks in paradise . . . wherever that might be.
Bless you, Steve, from Mike & me.
Sandy, thank you very much for your eloquent tribute to Shasta on Facebook. It means a lot to me. Love you and Mike . . . Steve
Steve, I’m so very sorry about the loss of your beloved Shasta. Putting down a pet is just about the hardest thing to do, and I absolutely dread the day I’ll have to do it with my current dog. But from reading your wonderful remembrances and seeing your incredible pictures, it looks like Shasta lived a very full, happy life. And even better, she got to see two World Series titles.
Mac, thank you for taking the time to write. Your kindness is much appreciated. Yes, this day is much better or cathartic for allowing me to remember the good times with Shasta. I’ll be fine . . . Again, thank you.
A beautifully-written tribute, Blade. Thanks for sharing it. What a wonderful dog.
You’re welcome Zumiee. She was indeed a wonderful companion. Going to miss her very much.
She was a great dog and your post brought tears to my eyes.
It was sad when she went. I dog-sat her and Eddie
a few weeks before her demise. She was happy and friendly to the end.
Whenever Shasta (and Eddie and Dolly) stayed with me, Shasta would always
follow me around, unlike even my own dog, Ginger. In my office, she’d always
be there on the floor just behind my chair.
FYI, that last picture in your blog post was taken by myself at my house.
(I recognize my horrible tv, cd rack, and stereo 🙂
It was taken on 4/14/2013.
I’ve got about six or so photos of her including some taken after that last one.
I’ll forward them to you via email.
Greg, thank you for the kind words. Much appreciated and your post brought a smile to my face. Yes, Shasta did the same thing with me, as she did with my mom as well (especially, when my mom went into the kitchen. LOL. My mom always tells me how Shasta watched her and followed her everywhere). Also, In my post regarding people that have watched and taken care of Shasta, I mentioned a “Greg” and I was referring to you (I left surnames off to ensure everyone’s anonymity). Most people probably think I was referring to people in Colorado . . .
Damn, I looked at that photo 7 ways from Sunday afterwards this morning and said to myself, “When did my mom redecorate the house?” I was fooled by Shasta’s familiar green dog bed and her sitting on the wood floor (which my mom also has in her living room). Hilarious. Thank you for sharing and more important, thank you for taking care of Shasta and loving her as you do your own dog, Ginger (say hi to her too . . . Looking forward to seeing both of you when I visit in May). Take care Greg . . . Steve 🙂
Oh, Steve. Soooo sorry. What a wonderful tribute to your Best Friend …… our pets are so much more than pets. They’re family. She loved you and you her; we learn so much from them. Our babies have been gifts to us – what loving spirits they are. Shasta had a great life and her spirit will be with you. I know your heart is broken right now but I hope you can get some peace from the knowledge that she loved, and was loved, and she left this world with dignity. Hugs.
Thank you Carol. By the way, I remember you always giving her a treat before meetings at the Mountain Club. She always looked forward to that (She was so spoiled by everyone at the club . . . Grin). Hope you and Greg are well . . . Hugs, Steve
Now I’m crying! Shasta sounds like a sweetheart and a wonderful friend. It’s devastating to lose a beloved pet. I have a 21 year old cat I “acquired” when my parents died and she grabbed on to my heart big time! I leave for Bhutan this Wednesday and even though I have good care lined up for her I fear coming back to no kitty so your story really resonated with me. Shasta was lucky to have been so well loved and traveled!
Well, I am going to send positive thoughts and prayers your way, i.e., your furry friend will be fine when you return from Bhutan! Although the last couple of days have been hard, writing the blog post also has allowed me to recognize how grateful and richer I am for the experience of having had Shasta in my life. Thank you very much for your kind and thoughtful words . . . Steve
You’re very welcome, Steve. Miss Holly will be listening for your good thoughts and prayers and she’ll be really pissed at me!
LOL. You better bring her a treat from Bhutan then!
our thoughts are with you Steve, its a hard thing to go through – xxx
Thank you Gill . . . I hope you and Paul are well!
Sorry to here about the loss of Shasta Steve I know to well what’s it like to loose a loyal friend as no doubt Shasta was.
Steve: Sorry about your loss. Leading a life of adventure was evidently Shasta’s way as well as your own. Bull elk, bears, deer herds and constant human interaction. A good life i would say.
Lost my big, old Mac last summer ~ may have been from an overload of ticks. Though he was getting up in years for a lab-rottweiler cross.. Also, two very close companion cats went on walkabouts and did not return. Still have Macouzho and a cat-clan. The country life can be pretty good for our furry friends.
Hi Carstie,
Sorry for your loss. The bond between us and our pets is special. I probably wont be getting another pet for quite some time, if ever. This is the 2nd time I have lost a pet and it doesn’t get any easier. I saw your post on the Flap regarding the weather over in your part of the country. I’m not certain I could handle that much snow. This is coming from someone who lived at 8500 feet for over a dozen years. Ha. Thank you for stopping by and commenting. I hope you are well!
Steve
Blade,
I really enjoyed reading about your life and escapades with Shasta, she sounds like a great dog. Losing a pet is an almost unbearable part of being a guardian, certainly as difficult as anything I’ve experienced in life.They become such a huge part of our lives and we rely on them more than we sometimes know.
You gave a her great life and a lot of love and that’s what it’s all about. In return, she gave you her undying loyalty and love. Great stuff. The pics you posted are really great, moments in time you’ll always have.
Thanks for sharing your story.
John, thank you for the kind words. Shasta was special to me, as well as many of my family and friends. I got her immediately following my divorce in 2000. I know I am biased, but she is the smartest dog I have ever seen. Again, thank you and feel free to stop by and comment anytime.