Last Thursday Seattle lost its mascot. I’m not talking about the Space Needle, or grunge, or even Sasquatch. When I talk about Seattle’s mascot, especially the mascot of the music community, I speak of the one and only Dinky Hudson, the fantastic border collie companion of Dean Hudson.
I moved here in 2000 and I knew Dinky before I ever met Dean. You’d often find him sitting patiently outside Linda’s Tavern or the Cha Cha waiting for Dean, hoping that a friend would swing by and play stick with him for a bit before going in to grab a beer. Everyone knew this dog. He was ubiquitous. He was friendly, well-mannered, handsome, and incredibly smart.
Dean and I started working at Sub Pop around the same time in 2003, and Dinky came to work with him everyday. We all considered Dinky a fellow coworker, and we were always trying to figure out different ways to get him to pull his weight around here — could we strap a satchel to him and have him deliver mail? Do you think there’s a possibility that he might actually be able to type? He must be able to seal envelopes, right?
Nine years plus passed with Dinky ever present. In fact, sometimes Dinky would be here even when Dean was out of town—one of us was always game to watch him when Dean was traveling, and on more than one occasion Lauren, Dean’s wife/Dinky’s mom, dropped Dinky off at Sub Pop on her way to work at the library. We didn’t mind having him here at all. He was one of us.
We all get older; people, animals, all of us. Gradually Dinky started having more health issues, and sometimes he’d be grumpy or have accidents at work. His hips were bad and he could barely walk, but he rarely missed a day of work. Dean left Sub Pop earlier this year, and Dinky went with him. He was not allowed to come to Dean’s new job, and for some reason that makes me feel good, like we were his last coworkers, cohorts, and real friends.
Dinky provided Dean with 16 years of love and companionship, and we are all so sorry for his loss. Dinky was loved by everyone who ever met him, and his memory will live on in our hearts and minds. I hope you are playing the greatest game of stick ever, Mr. Velvet Ears. Rest in peace.