This is Sir Hutchinson Rogers. We always just called him Hutch, sometimes Hutchie, sometimes Diggy Dogg, sometimes other names best not mentioned.

He came into our lives in the Summer of 2008. We happily cashed out all the change from the family “Change Jug” that we usually saved for trips to Disneyland and used it to pay the breeder.

He was the perfect pup. Really, he was perfect. OK, maybe he ate all of Luke’s toys. Poor Luke, every one of his toys was missing a leg, an arm, or a tire. It really wasn’t uncommon for the toy to go missing altogether. If you were a green army man, fugetaboutit – you were toast if Hutch found you. But he was contrite, and would sit next to Luke as he played with his broken toys, snuggling the boy.

Before he came along, I had a beautiful garden, with beautiful flowers. I’d spend hours tending this garden. Hutch must have sensed the joy I got from my garden because he would roll through it with joy and when he was done rolling over everything he would dig the garden up in search of more joy. He was contrite of course when I expressed (OK screamed) my displeasure but then he sat by my side, as I tried to fixed the damage and smiled because it was a beautiful day and we were together. For the record, I gave up on the flowers and planted shrubs. It still looked good and we were both happy. But yeah, he was perfect.

He learned 3 tricks, Big Hugs, Shake and Speak. He performed those tricks over and over every time you asked him. If you tried to teach him any other tricks, he would just perform one of the three, hoping that would suffice. Usually it was Speak, over and over. Maybe he was just trying to say, “I have no idea what you want from me so will you please just stop!”

Hutch was a true lover of music. If music was happening, he wanted to be right there. Piano practice? Right there. Bad piano practice? Still right there. Band practice? Right there, until the boys kicked him out of the garage and then he would sit himself pressed right up against the door. He was also blessed with his own musical talent – a beautiful tenor voice

Never out of my sight, or rather, I was never out of his sight. He was always at my side, underfoot. A couple times, he nearly killed me with that. Towards the end, it grew hard for him to keep up. So he’d just plop down in the intersection of my day and watch me as best he could.

He was a big dog with a big open heart. He went through this world with an open heart. If you were family, friend, the plumber or the census taker – he greeted you at the door with a sneeze and a wildly wagging tail, ready to be your friend. His way of saying, “Hey, how are you? I’m really glad to see you.” Usually, that happy greeting would bring a smile. Watching people react to to that open heart was always good to see. Sometimes I wondered if we could all come to each other with the same heart, how much nicer the would could be. He was always ready to be your friend, your best friend if you let him.

His last day was hard. He couldn’t get up. As the day wore on, it was clear it was his last. I called the family together and we all sat at his side, saying our goodbyes, taking our last cuddles and he mustered the strength to show his love for us.

He took his last breath at my side. The last snuggle.

Good night Hutch, my sweet good boy. We are forever thankful for the love you gave us all so freely and miss you terribly.

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