Argus left this world with a howl on Friday July 29, 2011. Diagnosed with bone cancer in October 2010, Argus fought hard until the very end and never lost his sense of humor — he snagged a piece of fresh salmon off the dining room table the night before he died.
Argus’ early life was fraught with peril. Rescued by a shelter in Woodland, CA, “Tad” had already suffered a broken leg by the time he was three months old. Just as he was getting used to his new name and home in San Mateo, Argus contracted a mild case of parvo and fought bravely to overcome it. There were numerous other near-death experiences during his puppyhood, often triggered by his own misbehavior. It was joked that he was just one poo-rolling incident away from an early demise. He was famous for escaping from the back yard and splashing around in the nearby creek, choosing to beg forgiveness rather than ask permission.
In adolescence, Argus developed characteristics of the breed his trainers believe he was partially descended from — Anatolian Shepherd. With acute hearing, exceptional eyesight, and the strength to take down wolves, horses, and even lions, the Anatolian Shepherd Dog is a superb guardian of his flock. Argus took his role of guarding his flock very seriously, lovingly earning him the nickname “Killer” by friends. He loved adults and children of all ages, but did not take kindly to dogs he felt were a threat to his territory.
Most notably, Argus was an adventurous dog and enjoyed exploring new places with his people:
He mostly just wanted to be along for the ride…
Argus is survived by his adoptive parents, Greg and Molly, and numerous friends — both human and canine — who will miss his stoic charm and unconditional love.