Nazar

Nazar tried out for the cover
of Tucson Lifestyle in 2011.

He was such a handsome and beautiful creature, so innocent, so playful, so athletic, so sociable.

Was.

We buried Nazar this morning, October 5, 2022. He was thirteen.

He looked like a puppy — and was often mistaken for one — throughout his life. His cough, joints and limp indicated otherwise. But if he saw someone he recognized, and he had many friends and neighbors, he would break into a hard run towards them his shoulder pain notwithstanding.

He was Nazar the Wonderdog.

Nazar would bark, talk and sing. If guests came over to visit, he'd bark his greetings. When we were driving back and forth between Whidbey and Tucson, there were times when he sang a kind of modified howl/whine.

Shari was the one who really took care of Nazar, and before him Jasmine. But I would take the little guy for morning walks; off-leash in the wash so he had all the time he wanted to smell around and "read" the morning newspaper.

We think he learned from Jasmine to stay close on a walk, or that was inherent in the sheep dog breed. He was not the kind of dog that took off after some prey. (Even Jasmine did on occasion.) Nazar would stay close even off leash. It got to the point when we encountered a pack of javalina or coyotes, often enough in the wash, I didn't bother with the leash but simply asked him to stay close. Of course, I would use the leash along the roads because of traffic. He learned that when the leash was on, it was diligent walk time and he rarely stopped to read the newspaper.

We used to take Nazar and Jasmine to the park down the hill. Nazar was a champion frisbee catcher. When we threw the frisbee in the dog park, the other dogs would be attracted and chase Nazar, but the little guy never took his attention off the frisbee. In later years when we were swimming in our cement pond, Nazar would grab his frisbee and offer it to us. We'd toss it and he would make stupendous catches. They were hard on his joints, but he never complained and he would tire us out asking us to throw the friz time and time again.

Unlike Jasmine who refused to use the doggie door, Nazar was constantly jumping outside and back inside, each time with the loud bang of the thick plastic flap and its magnets hitting the frame. There were times when the surprise from that bang would make me almost jump out of my skin. Those jumps also took their toll on the little guy.

I didn't grow up around pets, but as Shari reminded me, we've had Jasmine and Nazar as family for a total of some twenty-two years. We already had Nazar when Jasmine passed away, so through we cried, we had the little guy to comfort us. I don't think we will adopt another furry child, so losing Nazar is falling particularly hard on us.

I am reminded of a photo of me taken in the countryside outside of Sydney. My parents had me stay with an older Hungarian couple who raised chickens.They had an Alsatian, what in the US is called a German shepherd. There is just the one photo and it's out of focus, but it captures how I feel now.

Nazar was such a handsome and beautiful creature, so innocent, so playful, so athletic, so sociable. He is family.