Feb 25, 2025 Mason: The Legend, The Terrier

The first time we met Mason, he was six weeks old, having just arrived at the airport like some high-maintenance celebrity. And by that, I mean he incessantly barked his little Westie head off while waiting for us in the holding area. The attendant handed him over with a look of pure relief, like, “Good luck, folks.” We should have known right then we were in for something special.

Now, nearly 18 years later (or 88 in dog years, according to most dog-age calculators), Mason is still here, no longer barking but commanding our attention—whether by choice or necessity. The years have softened his edges but not his spirit. He has become, as all older men do, both crankier (if possible – see below) and endearing, a combination that keeps us on our toes and deeply in love with him.

The Curmudgeon with a Select Inner Circle

Mason has never been what one would call a social butterfly. We’ve always considered him a bit of a curmudgeon—and his approval of humans has always been highly selective. You knew you were special if you made it into his inner circle. If not, you probably got a stare that made you question your life choices.

The Sisters Who Raised Him

Mason grew up with his human sisters who were 2 and 5 when he joined our family. They adored him then and adore him now, even though they’ve moved on to college and adult life. But no visit home is complete without a full Mason greeting, where he—somehow—manages to be the first being they hug, even before their dear, doting parents. They also require frequent Mason updates, demanding photos of his every nap, walk, and existential stare out the window.

On Barking and Best Friends

We came to appreciate his barking, a skill he honed like a true artist. He kept us safe from the obvious suburban threats: squirrels, delivery drivers, visiting relatives. Over the years, he only made a couple of dog friends — he’s never been a “dog’s dog” – his girlfriend Tallulah, an English Springer Spaniel, and, before the dreaded electric fence separated them, his best friend, Drake, the Great Dane. The two of them as puppies were a sight: one growing at a ridiculous rate, the other one… not so much.

Adventures in Travel (Or: The Art of Dog Anxiety)

For the longest time, Mason loathed car rides. He made sure we all suffered equally, keening like a tiny, furry banshee until he either fell asleep or we surrendered to dog anxiety meds. With Emma and Lily in the backseat adding their complaints, we had some truly unforgettable (and perhaps deeply regrettable) road trips. But we didn’t let that stop us. Mason joined the girls and me on a legendary one to Massachusetts, complete with ferries and camping. In Cape May, he sat like royalty in the front basket seat on a 4-person bicycle (along with his sisters) while I pedaled in the sweltering heat. And though he doesn’t love the water, he has boogie-boarded up and down the East Coast simply because he refuses to be left out. He also had his fair share of kayak adventures, where he bravely attacked buoys as if they were mortal enemies, ensuring that no floating object dared cross his path unchallenged.

Slowing Down, But Never Stopping

Time has caught up with Mason, but it hasn’t caught him completely. He’s slower, yes. His sight and hearing have faded, but his spirit? Still skipping. Still romping toward his favorite “Bread Field.” He has even come to tolerate—dare I say, enjoy—car rides. Maybe age has mellowed him. Perhaps he just loves being with us.

In a few weeks, we’ll return to Cape May. It will be my husband’s first time, Mason’s second, and my chance to relive a memory made so many years ago. We’ll celebrate Mason’s 18th birthday there. Maybe we’ll rent another bicycle. Maybe Mason will ride up front again, supervising the whole thing. Perhaps we’ll take a walk and let him sniff to his heart’s content. Either way, we’ll be together.

We don’t know how much time we have left with Mason. His body is slowing, his naps are longer, and his world has gotten quieter and dimmer. But he is still Mason. He is still our feisty, funny, stubborn, loving, basket-riding, bread-field-romping boy.

And for now, that is more than enough.