Bilbo came from the Arlington Shelter. He had been found abandoned as a six- to eight-week-old puppy in West Virginia in December and was brought to the shelter by a kind person. He was named Herald as in “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” because he was noisy during the ride. I found him at the shelter on a Friday and fell in love immediately. I was the second application. I visited him all that weekend and found out on Monday, whether it was the work of the shelter staff or some other power, the first applicant decided not to take him.
I brought my boy home and renamed him immediately. Bilbo was the smartest, orneriest, cutest, cussed-est, adorable dog ever. He was the kind of dog that belonged on T.V., stealing dinner off the kitchen table or snuggling up next to you in bed. Bilbo was the ultimate bad boy that you could never stay mad at. He was known and loved by everyone he ever met. Bilbo had many appropriate nicknames. He was the ‘Boss Dog” at home, ‘Mayor” of the Utah Dog Park and “Pigpen” because no matter how much you brushed him, he was always scruffy looking. There were other names, but not all of them publishable.
As he got older, Bilbo developed some of the usual problems of old age. He developed diabetes, and went blind from cataracts. But, ask anyone who knew him, he was still the mayor of the dog park. You would never know he couldn’t see. Bilbo walked every inch of the park just like he owned it. It was only when he bumped into you that you realized he was blind.
He was my best friend, a constant pain in the butt and my sweet baby. He was the light of my life. I may have other dogs in my life, but there will always be only one Bilbo Baggins.
Submitted by Debby Critchley of Alexandria, VA