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Our dog Hershey entertained, loved, and drove us nuts in equal parts for 14 years. She gave us unconditional love every time we returned home and curled up near us when we watched TV or worked. She also ran away many, many times and drove us to drink.

When she was young she was a maniac.

On her first day with us, she ran upstairs and peed and pooped on our white carpet. Over the course of the next few weeks, she ate several shoes and was particularly fond of Indian leather. She once climbed on our dining table and wolfed down a 6" sub sandwich, carefully removing it from the plastic sheath and maneuvering around the bread as if she were on a low-carb diet.

In the early days after we adopted her, Tarun and Hershey had a tenuous relationship, which fell apart when I traveled on work. She would drag him outside at 2am and then admire the stillness, refusing to come back in. When I'd return home, Tarun would give me an earful about her and then Hershey would come to me and wail as if to say how could you leave me with him?!

To retain my sanity, I started checking her into a kennel before I traveled. That saved a dog and preserved a marriage.

Our time with her flew by with many ups and a few downs. On her escapes, she was apprehended by friends and strangers. I was once admonished by a vigilante member of our Nextdoor community who was "appalled" at my irresponsibility after she had run away the nth time. Yeah, that reply was fun to write.

In February of 2018, we bid Hershey a fond farewell, planted a tree in her honor in our backyard, and we now bask in her tail-wagging love from the great beyond.

She was our rockstar, for sure.

Hershey has a brother (nephew?) - Basil aka Baz. He is Neil and Humera's beagle.

Basil is the sweetest, friendliest, most lovable dog unless you are a member of these communities - postal, delivery, construction, lawn care, or if you are passing by our house on foot or by car. Then he is a hellion.

Over the years, Baz has chilled and grown grey. He is with us now and when I see him climbing the stairs slowly and deliberately, it makes me sad. Last night, we commented on how sweetly Basil had gone up to bed about an hour before us, so proud to have raised such a well-behaved dog.


When we got upstairs, we saw that he had chewed a pumice stone to smithereens in that hour without us. The stone was properly settled in his belly and he was snoozing in his bed. Microscopic bits of pumice was all over the bedroom floor.

With racing heart and visions of a dying dog, I googled: "dog ate pumice stone" and got back 1.22M hits. What the...?!

Some of it was grim - vet visits, bloody messes, surgeries. Yikes!

Turns out pumice is non-toxic and dogs are able to process it, phew! He has spent a good deal of the day in the yard doing you-know-what. Last night, he lost all credibility and will be watched with eagle eyes again.

Secretly though, I am glad this "rock"star of ours is young enough for mischief.



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