Malamutes I Have Loved: Beast

David Phillips
3 min readDec 12, 2021

[from 2014]

We’d begun our preparations for relocation to Maui. Part of that adventure included getting Beast, our Alaskan Malamute, to the island as well. Sadly, those plans have now changed.

When I first brought Beast home with Belle, he was the troubled one, lacking any sort of confidence, glued to Belle’s side. Touching him anywhere back of his shoulder blades caused him to cower and cry (or poop) in fear. Three years later, I could grab his tail and he’d understand it was play — but that was a long, gentle process to get him to realize he had an unconditional place in our home. We watched him blossom, learning it was all right to play, to ask for attention…to demand dinner. When we lost Belle, he became our only child, the sole center of our dog-world. He emerged from her shadow and started expressing himself more than ever before. He watched more television than any dog I’ve ever known.

Change is hard for dogs, and the last month or so had been especially challenging for our boy, with strange people viewing the house, packing, things disappearing into boxes. We set his travel crate up in the living room with us and he really took to it, preferring to stay in there quite a bit, denning. Then the house sold and we moved into a hotel for a week. Sarah was working, so Beast and I were on our own, together constantly, going for walks, exploring the pet store, wandering through the hotel, learning about elevators. He was game, curious, playful and, a bit unusual for him, snuggly.

On the day of my departure, I gave him a hug and a belly rub, and departed for the airport for Maui. I didn’t know it would be the last time I’d see the dog I’d adopted seven years before.

Since my departure, Sarah had him roaming the beaches in Oregon, playing with his new dog friend Odie on the ranch in Newport, and seemingly rediscovering some of the puppyhood he’d never had. His last weeks were filled with adventure, and he embraced it.

Beast had been having some throat issues for a while, and we thought we had it pretty much taken care of. Then the coughing became suddenly worse, and he started refusing food. Sarah took him in to the vet, and the X-ray revealed a huge tumor in his throat, distorting his trachea, and putting him at risk of asphyxiation, a horrible way to go. Sarah was with him in Newport with family while I was in Kula setting up the house. I turned off the saw, realized I had a text from Sarah, and called her. Her first words were “he’s gone, baby, I’m so sorry.” Sarah had been trying to reach me, and I either couldn’t hear the phone or wasn’t getting reception, so she had to make the hard call by herself, a hellish task. But the choice was clear.

Beast was a gentle giant, curious but insecure, loving but only just beginning, really, to understand how to ask for love, fascinated by little children. I like to think he’s running with Belle now, free and happy. Our pack is again smaller, and we miss him terribly.

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David Phillips

Technology Consultant. Former frog. Photographer. Skier. Occasionally left-handed.