McNulty Blazina-Smalley 2012-15

In an attempt to be both rational and measured, as opposed to falling victim to irrationality and hyperbole, I've let 10 days fade away before paying tribute to my fallen boy.  And, predictably, that attempt has failed miserably.  In order to be a worthy owner of a dog, any dog, one must have a certain irrational tilt to their game.  It's irrational to be feel such joy in watching a dog recognize you when you come home; it's irrational to feel such pride in watching a dog learn and perform a trick for the first time; it's irrational to spend so much time with an animal that will never talk and never truly understand what you're going through; and, yes, it's irrational to feel so devastated at their death that you feel such profound grief as if a family member has passed.  And, yet, lots of us feel that way with our dogs.  I certainly did.  And, still do.

Mac, as the ladies around the neighborhood called him, was a huge part of my life the last 18 months; not coincidentally, those last 18 months of my life have been the best 18 months of my life.  During his brief life, his dad moved in with, proposed to, and decided to build a home with the most kind and genuine woman he's ever had the privilege of knowing.  As a family of 4, we've hiked through mountains, took walks through parks, took trips down to the river, and watched a boat-load of Dateline/48 Hours crime shows together.  We've eaten dinner together, we've taken road trips together, we've even done Ice Bucket challenges together.  And, those were just the happy times!

Additionally, Mac destroyed my DVD player and several lamps because he loved chewing cords as a puppy; he destroyed my passport because he didn't want me returning to Budapest; he destroyed my couch, cushions, and pillows for the hell of it, I imagine; and, in an attempt to apologize for his reign of destruction, he destroyed my P90X exercise videos to drastically improve his owner's way of life.  Apology accepted and well played, McNulty.  In essence, before being relegated to the crate of doom, he did more damage than Ghengis Khan.  And, that was just in the first 2 months!

But, time has a way of taming even the baddest of asses and eventually, perhaps too late for his mother's taste, Mac began turning into the man of the house, not the house's mortal enemy.  His biggest joy was lounging with his sister; Stacey and I's biggest joy was taking pictures of those two clowns lounging.  If Shady went up stairs, Mac followed.  If Shady got something to eat, Mac suddenly got hungry.  If Shady heard a beep outside, Mac was at the window.  In fact, the only time that Mac would leave Shady's side was if the terrorist known as the UPS man was anywhere in the neighborhood. Mac and Shady were best friends, lovers, and siblings.  And, they were special together.

18 months is a short window.  Too short.  McNulty lived life like he knew he didn't have much time to live it; he was always moving fast, he was always in a rush to get to the next place, he was always in a rush to eat, always in a rush to drink.  I wish time would have slowed down.  I wish he wasn't in such a hurry to leave us.  I wish I had 18 more months of watching my fiance pet and take care of my boy.  I wish I had 18 more months of hiking, walking, and wrestling with my best friend.

I wish I had 18 more months with my boy.

McNulty Blazina-Smalley was a great dog.  An even better friend.