I Wanted to Change His Name

Hey Substack community, I recorded a personal podcast episode today about my best golf buddy, Snowball, and his recent passing. A celebration of his life and the memories we shared. I see this Substack as a place for me to share more words and thoughts around what I am seeing and experiencing, and within that, a place to practice writing, organizing, dreaming and remembering. In that vein, I am copying an email below. I sent this to a group of friends and family a few days after losing Snowball. It made sense to me to share it here. As we spread out around the world, sharing stories like this is important to stay connected. In my head, stories do that best. Thank you. E

EAL Show Ep. 276: My Best Friend Snowball

Dear friends, 

I am sending you this email to share with you my thoughts and feelings on a part of my life that now exists in memory.

Snowball passed away Friday night. When I got back from Costa Rica I learned that he was struggling with kidney failure. He was walking around like a cat with his back arched, which is a symptom of gastrointestinal distress.

I loved him as much as I could but not as much as he did me. I’ve cried more than any other time in my life and in a depth and form that I never have. I’m in it now and I’m open to however the feelings arise. I enjoy talking about him with people and sharing his memory.

I’m comforted knowing that, while he can’t trot around the house or sit with me on the couch, or yawn in the morning and sigh in the evening, he will remain in all the hearts of we that knew him or saw him in our films.

He changed the way people thought of dogs on a golf course and he was a part of RGC’s DNA before anyone. He was the reason I left my private club in Los Angeles - they wouldn't allow him (or any dog) on the course. That didn't make sense to me. I decided that I would rather play a busy and poorly maintained course with him than a nicer course without him.

I wanted a club where dogs were welcome as members too and that didn't exist. In that way, the original concept for Random Golf Club is linked to his name more than any other. And as I think about him or any dog or human's memory, I am thinking it is less about who they were or what they did on their own, but more about how they created something of positive value for the community they were a part of.

I miss him, and I’m very sad. I’m not lonely the way I was when I met him five years, eleven months and three days ago. He was there for me during the most incredible time of my life, including this last year. The only constant in my life since the time I met him was his excitement he offered upon my returning home to him. He didn't care what had happened since we last saw each other, he was just happy to be with his best friend again.

When he was younger, he loved adventure, traveling, and meeting new people with me. He loved cabs, planes, and golf carts. My favorite moments were when others would meet him in places where dogs typically weren't (the only place he was not allowed was the World Trade Center and I had to reschedule my meeting with Golf Digest) and he would make them happy when they weren't expecting it. His off leash trot was a symbol of freedom, play and curiosity. He was happiest on a golf course.

I went to Costa Rica for closure at the end of the hardest year of my life. It was as if he knew a chapter was closing for me. When I came home, he was ready to say goodbye. I look forward to continuing to share his story between us, with friends and family, and our community in a personal and authentic way, as we always do.

One of the things that has helped me to grieve this past week has been songs, photographs and sharing with others. I am attaching a picture from the day we met. You can see that neither of us had any idea what would happen - part of what defines an adventure. On that Saturday, I was bringing him home from the pound and I remember asking him if he wanted to be called something other than Snowball. I didn't really like that name at first. But every time I said it, his ears perked and his mouth opened in a smile. He was happy when I said it, so we kept it.

I have been listening to this song to help understand the pain of losing him.

Thank you for sharing his memory with me.

Erik - Snowball's golf buddy