Grant St. Clair, 1993-2007

May 9, 2007 on 9:47 pm | In personal |

Tucson resident General Ulysses S. Grant St. Clair passed away yesterday afternoon at the age of 13. He was a beloved family pet of the St. Clairs and a modern day ‘Renaissance dog’ of sorts, except instead of attaining success in several fields, he consistently failed, and didn’t really worry too much about it. For example, his Science Diet had utterly failed from the Puppy Mix days to Senior Chow. The eldest son of an unnamed black Labrador, he collected and ate many cowhide bones, without burying any. More recently, he had been eating bison ribs that had once belonged to General Sherman.

Also, Grant was an avid walker, very well trained on the leash and a master of the “heel” and “sit” commands. He could even “stay” when not too excited at the sight of a new person on the street or in the foyer. He was bitten by a pitbull on March 20, 1997, and had to go to the vet, just in case of infection. Grant was sent outside for biting Rob Tauran four years later, but it was Rob’s fault for trying to get too close to his bed. One of Grant’s finest achievements was driving to the top of Mt. Lemmon without throwing up in the car. He did not make it to Pine Top, however…we had to stop. It was kind of gross.

Born Mutt #1 of 2 in the Pima Animal Care Center, he lived most of his life in Northwest Tucson in Oro Valley. As a puppy, he survived distemper and was mildly disabled in his hips because of it. He spent the rest of his life fighting this disability. He was mostly a happy-go-lucky dog, and if in pain, it did not show in the early stages of his life. He became fully trained in the basic principles of “sit”, “stay”, “heel”, and “lie down” on Aug. 31, 1994. He was a member of several unions, including the Pima County Off-Leash Area, and a favorite of pet sitters.

His family is far-flung, surviving owners Jane, Bob, and Jimmy St. Clair in Tucson, Eva and Ernie Tedeschi in Berkeley, Joey St. Clair in Chicago, and Natalya St. Clair in Los Angeles. He had a brother, General Sherman St. Clair, and no children or grandchildren, having been neutered at a very young age. He had many acquaintances, but few friends, and did not write his own obituary, since he could not read or write. He has a plot at the Tucson Veterans Hospital, and the epithet he chose is “When You’re the Best of Friends.”

Sherman will have the dubious honor of maintaining his cowhide bone collection.