Obituaries

M. Twain Smith, 13, of Ola passed away suddenly at his home September 8, 2025, at 9:08 a.m. surrounded by his adoring humans.

Born with a heart defect that wasn't diagnosed until later in life, Twain defied the odds and lived a life full of happiness and adventure. It was difficult to think of Twain as a pet. He was more human than animal and simply used his fur as a disguise. A gorgeous Pekingese, he was a study in contradictions. Regal but goofy. Disciplined but mischievous. Happy but brooding. Adventurous but a fan of lazy days and soft, cozy bedding. Sophisticated yet humble. Stoic but sweet. Loving but independent. He no doubt had a flare for the dramatic but also had the ability to be demure, snuggly, and down-to-earth.

He was a true foodie. Often stubborn and prideful, Twain would stop at nothing to beg for even the tiniest bite of fried okra, birthday cake, French fries, pizza, spaghetti, or anything that a person could purchase at a drive-thru window. He was brave yet demanded to be held like an infant and rocked when he came down with a case of hiccups. Twain wasn't as much spoiled as he was well informed of how much he was loved and his ability to demand and receive the just rewards of being a "good boy." He wasn't a fan of hot weather. He wasn't a fan of cold weather. He wanted the temperature to be just right and simply loved the Spring and Fall. Days with the wind blowing through his hair made his heart sing.

As he reached his older years, he thoroughly enjoyed losing most of his hearing. It gave him an opportunity to ignore his humans' commands without the normal pretense, and he embraced his new superpower whole heartedly. A morning person, Twain woke bright-eyed and pranced into the day ahead. In fact, on the day of his death he did just that until he suddenly collapsed and crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Twain was a once-in-a-lifetime friend. We can't call him a pet because he really was so much more than that. He was a friend, a family member, a larger-than-life character, and as we've learned since his passing -- the axis the home revolved around. He found unique ways to make the humans follow his ideas. The other household pets looked to him for guidance and deferred to him with reverence. He was loud. His noble, self-assured, quick step echoed through the house. His snoring could wake everyone from their sleep. His unique pig-like sounds to announce his approval of a good scratch, snuggle or tasty snack made him more like a Pigingese. To say that he was a treasured gift that this world gave our family would be a gross understatement. We are so lost without him but take comfort knowing that he's trapsing the ever-after with a plume of a tail and gorgeous auburn hair, fully restored to his younger days when chasing a wild rabbit or a deer never crossed his mind as a bad idea for such a tiny little guy. He leaves behind so many "Twain Tales" that it would take a book to even begin to tell the story of his life. It was a life well-lived, well-loved, and well-done. Twain gave us so many memories to hold onto and so much laughter and love to soothe our hearts. During his final years, he was beyond delighted when the human grandbabies would visit because it meant lots of blankets on the floor, baby toes to sniff, new entertainment to watch, and a never-ending supply of dropped snacks.

Twain was a constant companion to his human mom and was overjoyed when she began working from home where he could comfortably supervise her 24-hours a day. Each morning, he took up his post in her office and remained there even if was a 16-hour day. He didn't mind the long hours. He napped and basked in the togetherness no matter how boring the day might be. She alone seemed to be able to read his mind and knew from just a look if he was hungry, needed to potty, wanted a snuggle, wanted to go for a ride, or was asking for her to dive into the secret stash of Vienna sausages he so loved. Despite his best attempts, he never could talk but could mouth "Momma" along with a sound as close as could manage. He was delighted when it always got him a special treat.

Among his many other hobbies were sunbathing, watching his humans cut grass, eavesdropping, refusing to move for the robot vacuum, barking at things no one else can see, and befriending any animal that happened to show up in the yard. Among his many accomplishments were stealing hearts, creating a robust snack reward program, being the home's official people greeter, and creating an endless void that can never be replaced by any other paws.

He leaves behind his dutiful humans, Stephanie, Madison, Beau, and the grandbabies, David and Levi. Also surviving are his life-long companion, Olivia-Jane Clemens, his son and best friend, Finn, and a host of other furry friends and family including Mollie, Tipsy, Abu “The Goat”, and feline friends, Moe-Ron, LoonaTick, Zelda, O.P.P. "Opie", Cola, Rya and Eerie. He was preceded in death by an infant son, Huck, and rabbit friend, Dobby.

Twain was the patriarch of The Huckleberry Hounds with Olivia-Jane. In addition to Finn (at home), he also is the proud father to Sadie, Cookie, Reese, Oreo, Ivy, Eevie, Chewy, all of Georgia, Gizmo, Punky, Peaches, and Lily of Florida.

Arrangements were handled by the gracious, professional, and caring staff of Paws, Whiskers & Wags of Covington.