Askum was his name. The Youmans’ wit at play. Sadly, the dog that (literally) smiled passed away after being kicked by a moose. Only in Alaska. Askum was a loyal friend to my Aunt Aimee for fifteen years. As seen in the attached video, he would accompany her everywhere. Although I only visited Gustavus three summers during Askum’s life, I feel as though he was a little bit mine. He was the kind of dog that didn’t need a lot of attention as long as he was permitted to hang around. I suppose that’s why he and my grandfather got along so well. Before my grandfather died, Askum would often wake up in the morning, trot down the road, cross over the river and through the woods to spend the day with him. Although my grandfather had a tough exterior, his interaction with Askum always exposed his warm heart. Askum is now appropriately buried in my Aunt’s garden where both my grandparents lay. And while that should be comforting, I can’t seem to shake the funk I’m in. Losing Askum is losing another connection to my grandparents and Gustavus.  And that’s just sad.