Mike the dog is legendary in Prescott, Arizona. He lived from about 1946 to 1960. Nobody owned him, but everybody loved him. And he loved them back. Mike hung out at the city’s Whiskey Row which spanned one square block across from the stately county courthouse. There’s a monument to him today near the northwest corner of the courthouse grounds. It reads:
“In memory of our community dog Mike. Self-appointed guardian of the plaza, official welcomer of visitors and general ambassador of good will, Ol’ Mike was known and beloved by all. Regardless of age, color, creed or station in life, he was a silent, tolerant, loyal friend.”
Nobody knows exactly how Mike came to town. One story says he arrived on a train. Another says a hotel guest brought him, then abandoned him. Another says his feet were bloody when he first showed up. “No one knew he far he had traveled,” an old-timer reported.
Mike was medium sized, black and white — maybe a cattle dog.
People tried to adopt him, but Mike liked Whiskey Row better, where he reportedly ate better than most humans. It’s said he liked burgers, fries and Eskimo Pies. Local man Johnny Jordan would always order two steaks, one for Mike.
No one agrees how Mike died, but it was sudden. He was buried by friends in a scenic spot in the Groom Creek area.
One man suggested if Mike could have talked, he could have written a best seller. “He possessed qualities above many humans,” he said.
Thanks to the Prescott Courier for some of the information here.
