Baxter P. Glanzer (2011-2024)

The end was obviously near. Baxter wasn’t eating, wasn’t walking, wasn’t… doing anything. He slept in one place, was carried outside to pee, then found another place to sleep. The last few months have been like that. So much nothingness and lifelessness.

Knowing how close he was to crossing that rainbow bridge, I decided to take him back to his old dog park in downtown Austin, Norwood Estate, with the kids last Saturday. In his heyday, Baxter owned this park. Pre kids, Lauren and I would go down there on Saturday mornings with a coffee in hand and let him run his fool head off, nudging other dogs into chasing him, turning heads with his speed. That was 2011. In 2024, Baxter needed to be carried into the park, and when let off leash, he trudged and hobbled awkwardly and painfully across the grounds until he reached the other side, then spent the entirety of the visit sniffing the fence line. After that, we loaded him into a shopping cart and made a Home Depot run, another of his favorite haunts. Much like the mid-2010s, many shoppers turned to smile and chuckle at the sight of a beagle driving a kids shopping cart with steering wheel.

While we knew the end was near, and seeing 2025 felt extremely unlikely, no one really suspected it was this near.

The night of Tuesday, January 16 was pretty normal. Lauren went off to bed and left me and Baxter on the couch around 10. I wound up staying up past midnight, a rarity these days, and once I realized the time, I scurried off to bed. As usual, in the middle of the night, Baxter traipsed up the stairs and arrived at my side of the bed, scratching to be hoisted into the bed. I obliged, grabbing whatever body parts of his I could find in my half-sleep, and hurled him into the middle of the bed and buried him deep under the covers. Also per usual, Edie at some point snuck into the bed, pushing me further to the edge. I awoke as usual, clinging to the teeniest scrap of mattress, with the beagle lying horizontally between me and Lauren, forming an H, and Edie lying diagonally with her feet in my face. All very normal.

We recently hired a cleaning service, and Miss Eunice was set to arrive around noon for just her second cleaning. When everyone was getting ready for work and school, Lauren urged me to remember to lift Baxter out from under the covers (otherwise he’d literally stay there the entire day until the next bedtime) and take him outside so Eunice could change the blankets and make the bed. I headed out to the shed for a busy morning of meetings. Around 10:55, I had a small gap between meetings, so I went in and pulled Baxter out of bed. He yawned a big beagle yawn as I cradled him like a baby and carried him to the bottom of the steps, where I set him down. Noticing the time, I raced back out to the shed for my next in a long series of Zoom meetings.

It was frigid outside. We were in the midst of one of the three coldest spells in Austin history (4 straight days of freezing temps, and just the third time a wind chill advisory had ever been issued). Normally, I’d leave a sliding glass door open for Baxter to come and go as he pleases, as our new sliding glass doors don’t accommodate doggy doors anymore. I decided on a whim to leave Baxter in the house to eat (or, more likely, ignore) his breakfast and I’d come back in later to let him outside to pee. With the cold, he hadn’t exactly been in a hurry to go outside anyway. Little did I know, that would be the last time anyone in our family ever saw him alive.

Moments later, I started my weekly 1-on-1 check-in with longtime co-worker James in the shed. During that same time, Eunice arrived to clean the house. At around 11:35, Eunice came walking out to the shed, frantically banging on the door. I told James to hang on a second, and tended to Eunice. “Your dog… he’s dead!” she literally cried. I didn’t quite believe her, and headed inside. She pointed to Baxter on the kitchen floor, lying in a puddle of pee. Nope, she wasn’t exaggerating. I rushed over and called his name and shook him. “No, Mr. Ryan, he is dead,” Eunice again cried, trembling. She apparently had just lost her dog a month ago and this scene was all too familiar.

I didn’t realize it, but before she had even gone out to the shed to tell me, she had texted Lauren who was downtown at work “YOUR DOG IS DEAD. 😭 😭 😭 ” Subtle. Shortly after, I texted Lauren, “You’d better come home.” Lauren called and asked if it was true, and burst into tears. I made sure she waited to calm down a little before trying to drive. Eunice apparently had witnessed his death. I originally thought she just found him, but she had seen him start to pee on the floor, and then basically tip over and struggle a bit.

So, yeah. That was it. All of Baxter’s hijinks over the years where he cheated and escaped death repeatedly, and it ended so innocuously, just tipping over at old age when it was his time.

Lauren got a quick appointment at a doggy funeral parlor for cremation, essentially replacing the vet appointment that was originally scheduled at that time, and we pulled the kids out of school early to send him off. I picked up Edie at preschool, where she was obviously surprised to be dismissed so early. She asked why I was there to get her and I told her Baxter was dead. She just said “Oh… so, can I watch the rest of Willy Wonka on the way home?” Lauren went to get John from YMCA after-school care, and he too was clearly surprised to be going home early. The drop-off at the parlor was sad, many tears were shed. We all said our final goodbyes and left his body there for cremation. We’ll get his remains back, along with a few other mementos, in a few days.

And with that, there is nothing left to do but look back on the life of the little rascal.

Baxter (Dago)’s Humble Beginnings

Baxter was said to be born on or around May 11, 2011 to a local mother beagle. He was quickly adopted by an Austinite named Francisco, or Frankie, I believe, and was named Dago—an Italian slur. After just a month or two, Frankie began to be troubled by his situation. The little ball of energy was too much for him and his apartment, and he listed Dago and his few precious belongings on Craigslist for the paltry sum of $200.

Around this same time, we were new to town, living at the home of Mark Addison in northwest Austin on a month-to-month lease. Lauren was searching for work, but having little luck. Spending her days alone and prowling the online job boards, she yearned for some companionship. We had had a wonderful time getting to know a Minnesota beagle by the name of Roscoe Domenichetti, the dog of our one-time roommate Sarah, and decided a beagle was the dog for us.

Fate was at play that day. Francisco, eager to rid himself of this hyper baby beagle, and Lauren, eager to surround herself with a lovable baby beagle, crossed Craigslist paths. Later that day, Dago became ours. Of course, we were renting a room in a house, and never so much as asked permission to purchase a dog. But once the deed was done, Mark was on board, as long as the dog got potty-trained… fast.

Lauren immediately changed his name to Baxter, after the dog from Anchorman. He sure was a cute little pup, teeming with energy. He was an awful learner, peeing and pooping in Mark’s house for weeks despite round-the-clock training attempts from Lauren and enrollment at the PetSmart Academy. By October, we had decided to rent an apartment just down the road, and that would mean even more difficult times for the dog. No longer could we just open a door and let him out into a fenced-in yard. We had to climb down stairs multiple times per day and roam the apartment grounds with Baxter on leash. Luckily, Texas has these storm drainage systems that are essentially just long corridors built into the ground where we could let him off leash to stretch his legs. We thought maybe we could get away with Baxter hanging out on our balcony unattended, but he’d pee and it would go through the slats and onto the head of a downstairs tenant, so that didn’t last long.

Keeping Baxter Occupied… No Easy Task

We both worked jobs away from home at the time—me and Callaway Golf on the east side, and Lauren at Whole Foods downtown. Baxter would have to be left alone in the apartment all day. Crating didn’t work—the magician could break out of any crate with his abundance of energy. Not crating didn’t work either, as he’d destroy the carpet and furniture. So, I’d have no choice but to either make the 30-mile round trip back home every day over lunch to walk him, or bring him to work with me! He was very popular at Callaway, and far from the only dog to visit. Unfortunately, being confined in an office was no fun either. I had to walk him every hour for a few minutes, and it was tough to get him to come back inside. At my desk, he’d put his head on my lap and whimper, and I’d get nothing done. That didn’t work either.

So, we signed him up for doggy daycare—a twice-a-week visit to DogBoy’s Dog Ranch out in the country, somewhat in the vicinity of Callaway’s offices. He had acres of sprawling ranch to run around with other dogs where he could finally unleash some of that endless energy. When I’d come pick him up after the workday, he’d be so exhausted he often slept for the next entire day. If we did that on Tuesdays and Thursdays, that would take care of four workdays, so one of us would just have to take him to work on Mondays and we’d be covered. Expensive, but it worked.

After less than a year at the apartment, we moved to our current house, where he could come and go as he pleased through the doggy door, and though we still used DogBoys, it was no longer as necessary.

Spoiled Rotten

Pre-kids, Baxter became almost a human child to us. I fed him from the table way too frequently. We walked, ran, and hiked with him multiple times per day when we could. When we went out, we only went to dog-friendly establishments, or places with patios. I remember going to the local pub B. B. Rovers dozens of times because they had dog-friendly patio seating with a doggy hamburger on the menu. When we traveled, we demanded the sitters send us pictures repeatedly. Lauren left seven pages of typed instructions on Baxter’s every need. In 2013, when we were in our friends’ wedding, we threw Baxter in the car for the 9-state road trip (utter disaster and colossal mistake). But make no mistake, we were among the best dog parents on planet Earth. Baxter was spoiled fricking senseless… and that would ultimately be his undoing.

Human Children Arrive… Dog Annoyed

In 2014, baby John was born. And now that we had a real human baby, Baxter had to take a little bit of a backseat. And while we continued to give him some attention and affection, it wasn’t the same as before, and he was never really the same dog. Baxter was okay with kids, but he just didn’t take to them like he did me and Lauren. John never got to know the sort of dog who would fetch a ball or play tug-o-war. Looking back at the hundreds of photos from 2015-2017 or so, John sure did try. There are dozens of pictures of John trying so hard to coax that dog into playing, with Baxter literally looking the other way in disgust.

Reincarnation of Harry Houdini?

But, that didn’t mean his adventures came to an end. Quite the contrary! Baxter was iconic for his Houdini-like daredevil acts, usually involving escapes. If a door was so much as cracked open, Baxter would try to make a dash, even if it meant failure and just running full-speed into a wall or garage door. He escaped repeatedly to the point where neighbors must have thought we were neglectful, awful human beings. Literally every other day, from 2012-2022, he was on the lam in the hood. It is not an exaggeration to say that he escaped over 1,000 times. We met a lot of neighbors that way! The best was when Baxter escaped and walked down to the local watering hole, Little Woodrow’s. He wound up on the patio with other dogs, happily drinking water and getting attention from the bargoers. I received a call from the bar that my dog was found, so I headed on down to retrieve him, and everyone was loving Baxter so much that they gave me a drink on the house. Now, if he could have just done THAT every time…

Another time, Baxter escaped without his collar on after a bath. Once I realized he was gone, I ran outside to the corner and started calling his name. Within a few seconds, a car drove down Amarillo Ave, and what should I see but Baxter riding in the backseat, tongue and ears happily flapping in the wind. I raced after it waving my arms and got them to stop. Amazing timing!

And there’s 2022’s infamous waltz through the storm drains. After escaping on a brutally hot day, Baxter found himself in the local greenbelt, and entered a storm drain. By some miracle, he actually made it all the way back to our house—just underground. Of course, we had no idea where he was. We searched for an hour, and could hear his barking, but just couldn’t pinpoint it. John finally noticed the sound was coming from the storm drain entrance, so we raced back home and looked into the grate and there he was, happy as a lark. It took removing a manhole cover to lift him out, but he was saved. Amazing he made it right back to his home in that underground labyrinth!

Not Your Average Mutt

Was Baxter a good dog? Sure, the bestest there ever has been! Was he a normal dog? Nope, not by a long shot. You name the things normal dogs do, and this dog didn’t do them.

• Eat dog food? Never. But a baby diaper caked with a fresh poop? Bon Appétit!
• Play fetch? Guess again! He would fetch something once, then try to get people or other dogs to chase him, and that was the end of it.
• Snuggle with kids? Nope. Knock them over and terrorize them, sure, all the time!
• Go on walks? Nope, he’d stand at the end of the driveway sniffing a patch of grass and not budge for anything. I’d drop the leash, do my own walk, and come back to him in the same place. But take that leash off, and off he’d bolt!
• Play nicely with other dogs at the dog park? Nope. He’d always find the smallest puppy and make that dog his bitch and terrorize it, then try to hump it relentlessly until we had no choice but to leave.

It seems like we failed in training him, but at the same time, he was very smart and knew many commands. Maybe he just needed a second dog at the house to keep him company or something. We’ll never know!

Friends 4Ever

In his life, Baxter made many friends, both human and dog. Gizmo Plumpe and Oreo Mego were two of his closest dog friends in his senior years. Anytime anyone would visit, up until 2021, Baxter would leap frantically at them, so eager to make friends. Perhaps no friend was greater than our teenage human neighbor Angel, who would come knock on the door and ask to take Baxter for walks all the time. Baxter would perk up at the sight or sound of Angel, and she had the patience to do his agonizingly slow, meandering walks. Angel truly was a saint. She even house-sat for us when we went on big road trips to take care of the dog. She moved away a couple of years ago, but when she came back to visit her grandpa, she stopped in to see old senior Baxter, and he sure hadn’t forgotten her as he’d spring back to life, tail a waggin’. They were the perfect pair.

In Closing…

Well, I guess the rest of the Baxter stories will have to be told in person, from the expensive corn cob ingestion incident to the destruction of several hand-crafted heavy-duty wooden crates, and many, many more.

While Baxter chose me as his master (due to all the puppyhood table feedings, no doubt), Lauren cherished him the most. That dog was always found in a deep Lauren clutch under the blankets, as a living teddy bear of sorts. She is taking his death much, much harder than the rest of the family.

While I know there were many times I spoke ill of his escapes and destruction and oddities, stealing my food, rummaging through trash, etc, he was as loyal and faithful a dog as we’ll ever know. We’ll sure miss that beagle, but we got over 12 years, 8 months of him—we mustn’t forget that. I’d say he had a life well lived. Rest in peace, old fella!