Thor

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve thought about firing up this blog again and writing about this or that, but until now, I’ve never followed through. Sadly, we lost our beloved Thor recently and the first thing I felt compelled to do was write about him. And that quickly turned into the desire to create a proper tribute for him. I’m posting it because he was an integral part of our RV travels and, undoubtedly, the most popular member of our family.

In December, 2018, almost a year after losing our previous dog, Dixie, I reached out to the folks at Coastal German Shepherd Rescue in San Diego, where we were spending the winter in our motorhome.

I told them we were looking for a young dog with no significant issues (Dixie had been a handful and we wanted an “easy” dog), and I had come across two Shepherds on their website that looked like they might fit the bill – Cora and Thor. I asked if we could meet them.

When we arrived, the volunteer, Lorraine, brought out Cora, and she was just perfect. Calm, well mannered, prim and proper, happy to receive pets.

We spent a few minutes with her and then Lorraine said, “Let me go get Thor. He’s actually my favorite at the moment.”

A couple moments later, the door flung open and out burst Thor, bounding toward us, all blind enthusiasm.

He didn’t know who we were, why we were there, or what was happening but he was 100% committed to the plan. Whatever the plan was.

He jumped on us, around us, and as soon as Kevin sat down on the ground, immediately climbed into his lap.

Without a word, we both knew: “This is our dog.”

Lorraine told us he’d been picked up as a stray and had been in their care for 10 months. When we expressed surprise that such a good looking, apparently purebred Shepherd would languish in a shelter for so long, she explained that he could be a bit aggressive toward other dogs. She said “most people want ‘dog park dogs’” and Thor would never be that kind of dog. He would always need to be walked separately and kept away from other dogs.

“Uh oh,” we both thought.

After six plus years of managing a reactive Dixie, the last thing we wanted was yet another reactive dog, but we reasoned that since we’d dealt with it before, we could handle it.

And if we didn’t adopt him, no one would!

And we could get him training!!

And he was Lorraine’s favorite!!!

It was all just justification for what we wanted. And what we wanted was this whirling dervish of crazy named Thor.

So, against our better judgment and prior declarations, we brought him home.

Within the first couple days, I told Kevin that Thor reminded me of the Kool-Aid Man, unexpectedly busting through walls, yelling “Ohhhhhhh Yeah!!!” and that was a comparison we’d come back to again and again.

From the start, he wanted to meet everyone, climb all over everything, and “party” late into the night. He instantly became the focus of our day-to-day existence and the center of attention in our home. Indeed, every visitor got the full “Thor treatment” – at the front door, on the couch, at the dining room table…a nosy, pushy German Shepherd demanding your full attention.

Sometimes, I think he just didn’t quite appreciate how big he was. Take this photo, for example:

You could be forgiven if you didn’t even notice my mother-in-law was in the picture too.

Now, some people would look at these photos and think “That dog needs some training and discipline.”

And those people would not be wrong.

But we never chastised him for his overly enthusiastic ways. We loved that he loved people and we never wanted to dim his spirit.

The most I ever said – and I said it often – was “Thor – Can we take it down a couple notches, please?”

But I didn’t really care. Because he was hilarious.

From howling along with every police siren to chasing down every squirrel, pigeon, or fly that drew his attention; from spazzing out every time we would pick up “his” bag (containing his ball, launcher, and hiking stuff) to his almost religious tradition of spinning around 2 or 3 times while waiting for his ball to be thrown so he could chase it; from opening the shutters – that we had intentionally closed – so he could yell at the dogs walking down our sidewalk to planting himself directly underfoot anytime we were in the kitchen or trying to exercise (and I do mean directly under foot):

he always, always gave us something to smile about.

Thor was smart – really smart. All of our Shepherds have been intelligent, but he was something special. It wasn’t just about his ability to problem solve. He was strategic, stubborn, and, I daresay, manipulative as hell. Multiple times, having, once again, been outsmarted by the dog, I would tell Kevin, “Next dog we get needs to be dumb. I don’t want more than 3 brain cells in their damned head.”

Even more astounding was his sense of direction and memory. Last Summer, we rented a car and drove up to the town of Tomar in Portugal.

It was the first time we’d done a real roadtrip since moving to Portugal and Thor was, unsurprisingly, a bit confused and nervous.

We parked the car in a big municipal parking lot and walked over to our Air BnB a couple blocks away. After dropping off our stuff, we left Thor in the apartment while we drove over to a grocery store to pick up some provisions. When we came back, we parked in the same parking lot but in a different spot, probably 20 yards away from our original spot.

Later that evening, we took him for a walk, going down by the river and exploring some of the parks. He was still nervous and unsure, and, eventually, we decided to head back to the Air BnB, so he could settle in. But as we were walking, he kept pulling us in a different direction. We decided to follow his lead just to see what he was so interested in, and he ended up walking us back to the parking lot where our car was parked. But not only did he take us back to the correct parking lot, he walked us right to the parking space in which we’d originally parked. The rental car wasn’t there anymore, but he knew exactly which spot we’d originally been in.

So, somehow, this dog, who had never been to this town before, knew exactly how to get back to the parking lot – from a different part of town – and back to the exact space we’d parked our rental car in several hours before.

Insane.

Of course, he didn’t always engage that big brain of his.

There was the time he ate a large chunk of squeaky toy and we had to go on 24/7 poop watch and hope for no blockage.

And there was his ill-advised foray into Austin’s Lake Travis in pursuit of ducks, who, as Thor soon learned, could fly farther than he could swim. If not for Kevin going in after him (fully clothed and with his cell phone in his pocket) to save his dumbass, he would have been in trouble.

He also once tried to pick a fight with a police horse.

The point is, his choices weren’t always well-considered.

Whatever level of intellect he chose to exercise, he was always up for an adventure. Whether it was hiking in the mountains or exploring ocean beaches or going to a local dog park (it turned out he was, in fact, a “dog park dog”), Thor’s answer to every suggestion was a resounding “Yes!!”

While he might be a tiny bit nervous when we’d go somewhere new, as soon as he “got it,” he relaxed.

Like… really relaxed.

Of course, looking at this photo of him making himself at home on the balcony of our hotel in the south of Spain, I am reminded of the fact that some people thought our dog was spoiled.

I don’t see it.

But even if he was, who could blame us?

Not only was he devastatingly handsome – the Pierce Brosnan of the canine community…

But he was the epitome of joy…

Joy in the green grass

Joy in the snow

Joy on top of mountains

Joy in the creeks

And on the beaches

Joy on every road trip – long or short

Joy in finding the biggest stick

Or the best toy

Or the perfect place to take a snooze

Simply put, Thor loved life and we loved having him in our lives.

In late June, Thor was diagnosed with Hemangiosarcoma, an aggressive, malignant cancer that most often affects German Shepherds, Golden Retrievers, and Labs between the ages of 7 and 12. It is a cancer of the blood vessels that develops silently, only becoming apparent when a tumor in the spleen ruptures, causing internal bleeding. We were lucky in that he survived the initial episode and we were able to take him out for a few more afternoons in the sunshine, but we had hoped for more; more hikes, more swimming, more road trips, more beach days. Sadly, it was not to be and, a few weeks after his diagnosis, we had to say goodbye to our best friend of seven and a half years.

For all the years we had him, whenever we would drive to a new place, Thor would pop up wanting to check out everything new. He knew the sound of the RV being put in park and he’d immediately run to the front and see what he could see out the windshield or driver’s side window.

In our cars, the minute we parked, he’d launch himself between us, using the center console as his personal step (which you can see in the photo I posted above).

However it worked, Thor was always, always, always excited to get wherever we were going and that excitement always manifested itself with him jumping up to the front seat between us upon arrival.

And that is why I treasure this photo I snapped of us in the car just a few days before he left us.

It’s our last photo together and while not a particularly memorable background, it perfectly encapsulates how I’ll always remember Thor – Just thrilled to be with his people going wherever we took him.