Junkies, it's a suck-ass day. Mookie the Violent has checked out. You know "those people?" The ones who don't have kids, who show off pictures of their dogs as if the dogs were kids? That's the Evil Queen™ and I. We have absolutely no perspective on life. We are dog people to the hilt. I've been around dogs my whole life, learned to walk months early by grabbing hold of the tail of our lab-mix "Coachie Boy" and standing as he walked away, pulling me up. In my life, I've had Coach (a family dog), Bunner (the first dog that was truly mine), Booger (dad's dog, hung out with Bunner), Dizzy (who met an untimely demise on a highway), and then Mookie the Violent.

Mooks showed up on my doorstep one day in 1994. I was 25, and like a dumb-ass, I started putting food bowls on the porch for her. And, of course, I let her in the house. She slept in the exact same place that Dizzy had slept, and I was already hooked. One day Mooks stopped coming around. I went to every Humane Society in the area, and found her in one. She was in a cage so small she couldn't turn around, and a Humane Society dude was washing her off with a pressurized hose. She was yelping, shivering, scared out of her mind. He was probably a volunteer and a great guy, and did not need me threatening to break his fucking neck, but at that point I knew that dog was coming with me. I adopted her, and for the past 14 years that dog went with me everywhere. When I was a single guy in my twenties, this dog basically lived in my car -- everywhere I went, she went. She loved the car, it was like her kennel, and she always knew I was coming back in an hour or so. The back seat had a blanket, water, toys, it was a little slice of doggy heaven.

We moved across country three times (Michigan to Cali, Cali to Michigan, Michigan to Cali). She got to see the whole country. We tried to take every vactaion in dog-friendly hotels, because the Evil Queen™ and I really didn't enjoy ourselves unless the dogs were with us. The single best road trip of my life was just me driving across country (Detroit to San Francisco) with a big dog bed in the front passenger seat, Mookie sitting on top so she could look out and see everything. We made that trip in two days and one night -- a couple of marathon drivers, listening to a Clive Cussler novel on tape. Just me and the dog for 48 hours straight, like some Steinbeck stereotype.

Mooks weighed anywhere from 40 to 45 pounds, and she could whip ass like you wouldn't believe. She grew up on the streets, yo, fighting for food from garbage cans, drinking water wherever she could find it. She was the sweetest little thing, but every now and then, some stupid dog, most often a bigger dog, would fuck with her, and she would morph into this snarling wild thing that belonged on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. Fortunately, she never ran into a pit bull, but she kicked the holy hell out of 100-pound German shepherds (she was very racist in her early days, hated the Germans). Once I took her to see my brother, who had two 110-pound black labs. One of those labs got all up in Mookie's shit, and she had them both on the ground, tails tucked, crying their asses off in about three seconds. It was amazing to watch. She was like the Tazmanian devil once she got wound up. She was 11-1 for the first ten years I had her (yes, I'm a male who loves fights, so I kept stats on my dog). Her nasty side faded as she got older and more and more spoiled, so she was about 2-for-4 in the rest of the serious doggy altercations. For a 40-pound ball of fluff, I'll take a 13-5 career record any day of the week.

She's also partially responsible for most of the fiction of mine you have listened to or read. She would sit under my desk, just hanging out while I wrote. I thought of her as my writing partner. Even when I got my closet-studio, she curled up in a 24" by 24" space in front of the PowerMac, always available for a chin schootch when I needed to think out a plot point or a character voice. When we were in Michigan and couldn't afford heat, I'd set up a little blanket for her (both to keep her warm and to use her as a foot-warmer ... yes, doggy labor, go ahead and turn me in to the SPCA).

Without a doubt, Mookie was my best friend. Her kidneys crapped out on her last week. It began during the SMOD™ writing retreat. She started walking slower, stopped eating regular food (I though I was smart giving her raw eggs and milk to get something in her belly). Once I got her home, it got progressively worse. The last few days she spent sleeping. There was much lovie time, lots of petting, lots of nice talk. I found the single biggest blessing to writing full-time was being able to be home with my dog 24/7 as she faded away. I used all of my Future Dark Overlord™ powers to try and heal her, but some things, apparently, are beyond even my abilities.

Last night we put Mookie the Violent down. I'm a total fucking wreck. Death is okay in fiction, in real life, it sucks balls. The SMOD™ is due in two weeks and I will meet that deadline, even if I'm bawling like a little bitch the whole time. Invest in Kleenex, my friends, the stock is about to go up.

I have two big announcements coming up, including a reveal of what this SMOD™ is all about, so I'll dutifully communicate those -- but other than that, you may not hear much from me in the next couple of weeks.


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sorry to hear that scott

sorry to hear that scott that sucks man.i lost a cat in january and it was bollacks
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My condolences go out to you, Scott.  I have always been a pet guy and I know how hard that is.
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Hi Scott, Sorry to hear that. We are thinking about you in this difficult time.
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That sucks...

...great big ol' donkey dick! Sorry for your loss man, sometimes, hell, most times, losing a family pet as bad as losing a member of your family. Hell, it is losing a member of your family. Condolences to you and your queen.
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People without pets won't understand

But we do.  Much sympathy.  [I think, therefore I'm right. -Hugo Rune]

 >>>[-Seth "The Hammer" Hanisek, Fullback, Woo Wallcrawlers]

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I'm sorry too

After reading all of these comments, I want to give you my condolences too. We adopted 2 kittens last year and I don't know what I would do without them. 


....I love fluffy bunnies


....I love fluffy bunnies


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Deepest condolences on the loss of Mookie. Maybe she's somewhere comparing notes with our delicate flower Isabelle (aka Isabitch, Hell Kitty from Mars) about the suckiness of kidney failure. If so, I hope Mookie's not rubbing it in about being able to ride in the car without peeing from terror (HKsFM would rather display their awesome powers at home). Hang in there.
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sorry 2 hear

mookie is a cool name and 13-5 was better than my dog's. Woody the beast was 0-3 one was a nasty dog, one was a sheep and one was a hoover.  He just past away :( know how you feel 


what's wrong with a bit of senseless violence to a lemming?

they're only going to walk off a cliff.

what's wrong with a bit of senseless violence to a lemming?

they're only going to walk off a cliff.

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I know what you mean. My dog

I know what you mean. My dog that I had when I was a young boy we had to put him to sleep. and out of all the deaths that I've gone threw I've never cried at a single person's furneal but when my dog died. I was a fucking mess for weeks I didn't want to talk to anyone. Just wanted my dog back.


You'll be in my thoughts for the next few weeks. 

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Long Live Mookie!

Hi Scott, I just wanted to share my sadness/condolences with you. I'm also a dog-man and they truly are the best friend a man can have. I was choked up reading your post, and that never happens to me - unless it's dogs. You have my sympathy's man. Good luck with your projects, and Mookie is now immortalised on the interweb for all too remember! Still loving your work. Colin.
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That sucks

Scott, that sucks. I have a cat, affectionatly named Kitty, and she has, on more then one occasion has kicked the living crap out of a dog. We are talking dislocated tale stuff.


I have no idea what I will do when she decides to kick the bucket, having already lost one cat (Pushín, which is the IRISH for "kitty") and dammit... I sort of know what you are feeling.

 Sure, I was in bits after loosing a goldfish. A FRIGGING GOLDSIFH!

 So... take as much time as you want. 

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I too, am sorry!

I feel your pain Scott, I'm a dog owner too! I'll try and send you another AcousticMonster ukulele video. Not sure if will make up for your fuzzy buddy though.
Why did I have to die? :(
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I'm so sorry Scott. We're

I'm so sorry Scott. We're here for ya, anything you need. Take care

Stephen 'The Breeder' Kilbride
           -OJ-    -KISS-           
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KoKo and I send our condolences.

Your fiction has sent all kinds of emotions our way, but nothing put a lump in my throat or, dammit, a tear or two in my eyes like reading of your loss. Take your time, sir. those of us who care can wait it out. Those that can't can get fucked.


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Unconditional love

There is nothing on this planet like the love of a good dog. And painfully so, the price we pay for that unconditional love is the hole in our heart. I suppose I would say that since I'm also one of "those people." I was really moved by your devotion to Mookie the Violent and I totally understand how the Evil Queen didn't really relax unless Mookie was traveling with you. [That's how I was with Oscar the Boxer.] That must have been a difficult entry to write but your post is a beautiful tribute- poignant and real. I hope your grief will be outweighed by remembering all the wonderful Mookie moments. Consider the condolences I'm sending are from the dog fanatics here at both Sheer Brick Studio and the Geologic HQ.
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Sorry man. That really sucks.
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Sorry for your loss Scott

I love all your work and will be praying for you. We have 2 dogs and 100 fish and totally relate to the pain. I hope your writing is cathartic. Take your time and give the Evil Queen a hug from all of us. Nathan
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Goodbye old friend

I've had and lost 8 fantastic dogs and one cat over my life, Scott, and losing them *never* gets easier. Especially when you're the one that has to make that decision to put them out of their misery.


Remember Mookie as she was and know that you did the best you could for her.

I teach a Firefly class and you don't!
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Sorry to hear that, Scott.

Sorry to hear that, Scott. Hope things get better for you.
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I'm sorry Scott, that sucks.

I'm sorry Scott, that sucks. Mookie sounds like a great companion.
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Mookie the Violent...she picked the right porch to hang out on.

Wife or Husband, Children, Friends and Family, yes they love us, but they are only human.  I am certain that the only truly unconditional love we experience in life is given to us by our canine friends.
I too, echo Wolfs sentiments and I shed a few tears remembering my own Gone Dogs.... Cindy, CindyToo, Rowdy,Pandora,Pepper, and PolkaDot(Pokey).
*I am the Rear Admiral but Sigler gives the Orders*
*I am the Rear Admiral but Sigler gives the Orders*
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Thank you for sharing Mookie with us, Scott.

We are not worthy, but it was a great honor to read about the Mookster. 

Grieve. Kill something. Recover. We'll be here waiting when you get back.


Murder at Avedon Hill - podcast novel by P.G. Holyfield - http://pgholyfield.com/maah

Murder at Avedon Hill - podcast novel by P.G. Holyfield - http://pgholyfield.com/maah
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Till you meet again

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here,

that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play

There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who

were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them

in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss

someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks

into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers.

Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass,

his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet,

you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again.

The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head,

and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet,

so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...


Scott... our Condolences

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Scott -- very sorry to hear about Mookie's passing.  My heart goes out to you and Mrs FDO.
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I'm sorry.  I know how card it can be when you suddently realise there is something wrong with a loved pet and realise it could be the end. 


I feel your pain.


anyone in hte SF area can go and give Sigler a hug? 


-- Mike----->

--- Mike----->

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