Dognappers, Boat Wrecks and a Man's Best Friend

The continuing adventures of an artist and his dog on the spinning ball of blue and green they call their home.

by Bob Tis

We had a real scare in Coral Bay this past week - Shank the Dog was lost at sea.

It appears, however, that this courageous Coconut Retriever, who is the near constant sidekick of local artist Greg "Paz" Myers has many more than nine lives.

"Shank cannot die," Paz explains matter-of-factly. "He is a superhero."

A bold claim to be sure, but after one discovers the miles this dog has traveled and the people he has met along his fantastic path, you start to wonder. And then, when allowed to witness the unique bond this pooch has forged with one of the most talented painters on St. John, the idea that Shank may have tapped into the supernatural is no longer so absurd.

Dedicated Sun Times readers will remember this hound with the soulful brown eyes from a few years back, when he went missing in Coral Bay. It was familiar ground for Shank, who was born in the home of the prestigious Marsh family nearly nine years ago. There was no immediate concern when he went missing because for years now Shank has been sighted searching for Paz and vice-versa. But that wasn't the case this time.

Some tourists, it turns out, encountered Shank on his daily rounds and became immediately enchanted with his very human emotions and puppyish personality. They somehow convinced themselves that this dog was lost, perhaps even not well fed, and decided to put a leash on him and take him back to their home in Portsmouth, N.H. when their vacation was over.

Paz knew nothing of this at the time but was beyond distraught - he was nearly delusional. He could not believe his dog was missing!

Now Paz will tell you himself that he is a veteran of some of the more mind-expanding adventures available to artists of his ilk, and some of his profound work resembles what Salvador Dali might produce after a week at the Bread and Puppet festival in Glover, Vt. But what Paz might not mention is that he most certainly is not just off the turnip truck and is, in fact, the product of a very diverse and erudite New England education.

So, he did some research.

Paz figured out exactly how Shank was dognapped and, still beside himself over having lost his faithful companion, he decided to do something about it. Paz painted. And painted some more. And he started selling his work at bargain basement prices across from the former Pickles Deli.

Then he got a plane ticket, and with the smell of Cruzan dark still on his breath he walked the suburban streets of a very foreign-feeling New Hampshire city and whistled for his dog.

At last, boy and dog were reunited.

Oh, there was some messiness. The litigious yuppies from up north had, of course, become enamored with Shank (tough to blame them) and thought they were providing a better life for this island perro on the outskirts of what was once a very cool city. They got huffy and forced Paz to employ a local barrister to wrestle his puppy from their greedy grip. He finally prevailed and, to most everyone's delight, returned to St. John with Shank in tow and a smile as wide as the jet they flew in on.

It has pretty much been domestic bliss, St. John-style for dog and artist for the last couple of years - but fast forward to the waning days of October 2008, when word came that Shank was lost at sea.

Fear rippled through the artist's inner circle that this magic bond between dog and man might be broken.

The details of this particular adventure are sketchy at best, but what became clear when the dust settled was that after a kayak flipped over Paz wound up back on St. John and Shank didn't.

Paz, it turns out, had a human passenger he had to save and a sinking kayak on his hands that day and Shank, whose brother Bait was eaten by a shark in nearby waters, wasn't helping matters.

"I told him to swim for it and he did," Paz said. "He probably swam over two miles."

Locals on Jost Van Dyke said the tuckered out small brown dog washed up and started wandering the sandy streets of Great Harbor looking for his owner. For two days the dog searched, quite wary of any human contact, perhaps still aware of what happened the last time he befriended some tourists. Shank, they said, would stare across the Sir Francis Drake Channel at St. John and appeared to be contemplating a big swim.

"Shank knew where we came from and how to get home," Paz noted.

Fortunately for Shank, he is quite famous in some circles and was recognized right off when he popped into Ivan's Stress Free Bar in White Bay for a cool drink of water. Telephone calls were placed and the artist and the dog were soon reunited again.

So concludes just one more chapter in the countless adventures that these two very unique creatures create every day.

Does anyone hear Hollywood scratching at the door?

November 20, 2008