Mike and Tug, age 8 weeks

A man, a dog and a friendship

For as long as I could remember I wanted a St. Bernard. There was something fascinating to me about having a dog my size with which I could get down on the floor and wrestle without worrying about stepping on or crushing underneath my 230-pound frame. Whenever I would mention to someone that I wanted a Saint, the faces and comments were always the same, “Why would you want a dog that drools so much?” or “A dog that size will take over your house.”  To the first question, I would always say, “So what. Isn’t that we have towels? Nothing that can’t be cleaned up.” And to the notion that they take over the house, I didn’t have an answer before owning a Saint, but I didn’t let that deter me.  Not even movies like Beethoven or Turner and Hooch could deter me. In fact, those movies only nurtured my desire to one day own a St. Bernard.

After college and a stint in the Navy, I came across an ad for St. Bernard puppies in November 2004. At the time of the ad, the puppies were three weeks. The mom had a litter of 13 puppies, and the owners were hoping to find them new homes as the holidays approached. When I saw them, it was love at first sight. I was the first to respond to the ad and had pick of the litter. The largest of the litter was a male puppy that bore a near-perfect resemblance to Beethoven, from the movie with Charles Groden.  I was hooked.  I staked my claim and went home excited and disappointed all at once. Excited that I was about to be the proud owner of a St. Bernard but disappointed it would be five weeks until he was ready to leave the litter.

The five weeks went by faster than I thought, but it was time well spent getting the puppy’s new home ready and trying to figure out what I would name him.  There were so many possibilities. For years, I always thought I would call him Bevo, after the University of Texas mascot. It didn’t seem to fit, though. I kicked around several ideas, including Tank, Sarge, Tex, Bull and a few others. They all seemed like “big guy” names to me, but they also seemed like “tough guy” names. And this puppy was too lovable to have a tough guy name. In the vein of lovable, oaf-like names, Tug came to mind while driving down the road one day. I’d like to say it was a moment of epiphany and that there was some sort of sign from the heavens, like the clouds formed the word “Tug” in the sky, but it was really the result of a week-long brainstorm session and the Tug McGraw autobiography that had been laying on my coffee table. Tug it was, and the start of a friendship that has been filled with color during our four years together.

I will share stories about Tug, past and present, as we put Merrick Elements to the test. We hope you enjoy.