Born in October 2011 and adopted from the Steuben County Shelter the week before Christmas, Comet was one of five in his festive litter—Dasher, Dancer, Prantzer, and Vixen were fine, but let’s be real: Comet was the star.

Comet’s life mission? Chase anything with wheels and claim every Jeep and golf cart ride as his own. He took his duties as an air-defense commander seriously, barking and “chasing” F-16s across the yard like it was his personal battlefield. His three-acre kingdom was his pride, his fortress, and his playground. And if you dared enter, you’d quickly learn: this was Comet’s house.

He was a legend in every way—part troublemaker, part sweetheart. With three official biting offenses on record (not proud, Com!), a reputation for leg-humping, and food-stealing skills that rivaled a magician, Comet kept everyone on their toes. He had an uncanny ability to know the exact moment you tried to sneak out of bed, and he never missed a chance to be touching his people—whether curled up in sleep or holding court under the desk.

He loved his beer. He loved his scrambled eggs. He loved his family most of all—the most loyal member one could ask for.

Comet was the most handsome, softest, whitest pup in the world, and no one will ever convince us otherwise. He leaves behind his human parents and sister, who will miss him fiercely but also smile knowing he’s now reunited with loved ones—probably handing out puppy kisses and ruling the golf carts in heaven.

Long live the legend.
We love you, Com.