Obituary of Sasha Hurst
As a puppy, Sasha was affectionately known as “Piglet” because of her curly tail and little snorts and snoring when sleeping. She never got in to anything she shouldn’t, never chewed anything she shouldn’t and learned that potty bells meant outside, even though she dinged them a lot to play in the snow!
She matured into a beautiful, even-tempered adult who was game for anything. She knew what our activities were going to be according to which shoes we put on (Crocs were extremely exciting as it meant outdoors time), and was always happy to give the squirrels in the front yard a chase when they got too close to the bird feeder. She took her cat policing duties very seriously too; she was the entire Boston PD in our house, here to protect against any scratching of the furniture!
Her favourite walks included going somewhere where she could take a favourite stick and, in the summer, paddle in the creek, preferably with said stick. Sasha, while not overly fond of bouncy puppies, always conducted herself with great decorum in public; calm, even when there were reactive dogs straining at the end of their leashes to get at her.
She loved weekend breakfasts with the family as it meant she got to sit on my lap when we were done and have a few bits of egg and maybe some toast. She was not one for many toys; she had her holee-roller ball, a couple frisbees, and a few favourite sticks. Each morning she would go outside and do her business, then it was straight back up to bed for snuggles until we got up. We called her “Brick”, as for a small dog, she was muscular and dense and comfortingly heavy on the bed covers.
Throughout her short illness, she was a model patient who never snapped at the vets or complained about taking all her meds or being injected every day. I like to think she chose when she was going to pass, and gave us the most wonderful weekend beforehand. Full of energy and love and kisses.
Sasha taught me how to love unconditionally and leaves a significant hole in our hearts with her passing. There is no longer an excited wigglebutt to greet me when I get home or an eager tongue to wash my face in the morning. But she also leaves behind a legacy of igniting our love for the breed.
She is so very missed by all of us
