Mourning the Loss of a Golf Friend

I’ll never be the same

Golf, at its very roots, is a game that is very much a social game. Sure, there’s the competitive aspect of the game but what better way is there to spend a few hours talking to a friend about life’s trials and tribulations. The friends that we go with to spoil a good walk might be old high  school friends, a neighbor, a co-worker, or it might be somebody that you were once paired with upon your arrival at the golf course.

Friends come in all shapes and sizes and I wanted to share with you when I lost a golf friend, very recently. While he didn’t actually play golf he enjoyed spending every moment with me on the golf course that he had. For him, it really was about the little things. Squirrels, finding balls, and chasing Canadian Geese. I’m talking about my best friend in the world. My Black Labrador Retriever, Muskoka.

The name Muskoka comes from two places. First, it’s a region north of Toronto, Ontario Canada. But more importantly, it comes from Indigenous roots. It comes from the name of an Ojibwe or Chippewa tribe chief named Musquakie. His name translated means “not easily turned back on the day of battle”.

October 2nd, we made the decision to euthanize him as he unexpectedly developed a very aggressive prostate cancer. In the course of about 6 days he was vomiting, lost a lot of weight, and he wasn’t very responsive to his name. He wouldn’t eat. Even if it was his favorite timbit from “Tim Horton’s”, an old-fashioned plain. The cancer was so aggressive that it affected his central nervous system, his heart was so weak that it couldn’t pump blood to his hinds. The prostate was 5x the size it should’ve been. My poor baby.

While I could turn this into an emotional piece (which it sort of is) I want to think of “My Muskoka Bear” in terms of happy times. Who was he? Muskoka was 11 years old going on 12. His mom Sasha was a yellow lab and his father Tucker was a silver labrador. I didn’t want a dog but I made a promise to my wife that I thought that I’d never have to keep. “We’ll get a dog when we get approved for a mortgage and buy a house” I said. It happened and there I was driving to a breeder that my wife knew to pick a puppy.

It was only him and his sister, while his sister was rambunctious he sort of stayed off to himself. So I picked him. It didn’t take long for him to become my best friend and it became very clear in record time that he was my boy.

Of course he loved truck rides, going up north to his namesake, being with his “hoomans”, going on the boat, fishing, playing fetch, and basically everything else. As long as he was with us. But there were times spent on the golf course. Often, I would practice golf shots from the rough into the rough never striking from the fairway and he would retrieve the golf ball. Other than swimming, I think that Muskoka loved this the most. 

These excursions always took place during periods of when the golf courses were closed. Typically, the late fall, winter, and early spring. He loved exploring the space off leash and he found a variety of items each time out. Usually balls of some type. Tennis balls, hockey balls, golf balls, a Tonka ball dog toy that some unfortunate pupper left behind, and on one occasion a flat football. Oh, then there was the deer antler that he found and kept. He still has had it and There almost always were treasure’s out there. But it wasn’t all play.

He loved working out there too. Whether it was field-training, chasing geese off of the golf course in the spring or clearing debris off of the golf course, he loved it. But where he really shined was when he was performing “course maintenance”. He would grab any stick, branch, log, or limb and carry them in his mouth to put them in the brush. Size never made a difference to him and often I wonder if the superintendent had any clue why the golf course was so debris-free after a long winter. The answer was, Muskoka. Even though he wasn’t employed at a golf course per se he was a “Dog of Turf”. 

Muskoka was and always will be my hero. He saved me from myself during suicidal bouts of depression. He signaled help when I fell unconscious during a diabetic episode. I only have both of my legs still because he sniffed out infections that I was unaware of. The first time in 2014 when I had fallen really ill at the PGA Show. This summer, I underwent multiple amputations due to diabetic foot ulcers. I even became septic and had MRSA. It was Muskoka that made being stuck inside of four walls bearable.

When my autistic son was young he never came home one day. No phone call and we were worried sick. Muskoka was trained to track, Muskoka led me to him. He was a pretty good angler too. When he was about 4-6 months old, we took him swimming. I threw a stick in the river, and he came back with a black crappie. He also caught a freshwater drum on another occasion. 

My dear Muskoka, you were everything for me and your family. You’ll be forever missed and never forgotten. Like the sign says at your namesake. “Muskoka, once discovered… Never forgotten”.

RIP my baby. My buddy. My love.

Muskoka

February 4th, 2012 – October 2nd, 2023