About Dr. Rodney Rogers
Rod lived his life guided by curiosity, compassion, and a deep respect for animals. This page shares a glimpse into the stories, places, and friendships that shaped his lifelong advocacy.
PERSONAL REFLECTION
My beloved husband, Rodney Outwaitte Rogers
Rod was an intellect, a poet, a fighter pilot, and a true Renaissance man.
I met him at the office copier on my first day at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University, where I had just joined as a professor in the Computer Science Department and where he also worked. We were married almost one year to the day later in a hot air balloon in Napa Valley, California, on August 12, 1990.
We spent our wedding night in bunk beds in a Stanford University dorm room because Rod was giving a presentation at the University the next day. This very unusual wedding night is indicative of the adventurous and special life we lived together for 36 wonderful years.
Rod was highly educated and never stopped learning.
His undergraduate degree was from MIT, where he was also on the varsity rowing team; and afterwards, he completed a year of graduate work at Harvard.
After serving as a fighter pilot in the United States Navy flying F8s on and off aircraft carriers, he went on to earn two PhDs, one in English Literature and one in Computer Science. He is the reason I have a doctorate degree today. When I met him, he was working on his second, so I thought I should at least get one.
Rod was a professor at many universities and spent almost 40 years at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University, where he taught in various departments including Humanities, Computer Science, and Aeronautical Science. He would frequently end a lecture on some aspect of flying with an appropriate poem, often one he had written.
Rod enjoyed good conversation around the dinner table, often quoting passages from books and poems while drinking Manhattans, martinis, or red wine. He was inquisitive and probing, with razor-sharp instincts, and asked questions that made people think, often ones no one else would have been brave enough to ask.
When we watched the movie Top Gun, I asked if he could do all the things they were doing in their airplanes. He said, “Yes.” Since then, I’ve always referred to him as “my Top Gun,” though he didn’t like that very much because he was an incredibly modest person.
Before we were married, we made a commitment to seek out adventure as often as we could, and we lived up to that promise, taking over 175 trips around the world together. Along the way, Rod formed lasting friendships and stayed closely connected with people around the world from all walks of life.
Rod was deeply devoted to his family and his wide array of friends (both 2-legged and 4-legged) from all over the world.
FEATURED STORY
San Miguel de Allende
There are many stories from Rod and Shirley’s years of travel, but their time in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, stands out. The relationship they formed with some hill dogs there over many summers reflects the consistent care Rod showed to animals throughout his life.
Beginning in 2002, Rod and Shirley spent one to two months each summer in San Miguel. What started as a chance encounter with a small group of wild dogs grew into an 18-year relationship built on trust, presence, and responsibility. They returned year after year and went to the hills to hike with the dogs. When they would leave, they arranged for the dogs to be cared for in their absence; and they sought medical help for them when needed.
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The Wild Dogs of San Miguel de Allende, Mexico
We vacationed in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico for 1–2 months every summer from 2002 to 2020. When we travelled, our primary activity was to go on an all-day hike, preferably off the beaten paths. On our first day in SMA, we noticed beautiful hills and mountains just outside of the town from our hotel room and decided to head in that direction for our first hike.
About an hour into the hike, we encountered a small, black dog that was not happy that we were invading her territory. She was growling and barking, so we named her Snappy. Later that day, we noticed Snappy hovering around an old stove taking shelter with several other dogs and some small puppies. We realized that Snappy was trying to protect her pups when she first encountered us. We renamed her Snappy Mama.
Rod, not being one to let any dogs come into his presence without making friends, said, “Tomorrow we’ll bring food and make friends." And we did.
Thus began an 18-year friendship with the San Miguel hill dogs. Even on that first trip, Snappy Mama began joining us on our hikes; and before the month was over, several dogs, including Fiesty, Cayota, and Jami, were hiking with us for hours at a time. Snappy Mama would hike with us, then signal when it was time to return so she could nurse her pups, including one we named Sweetie Pie.
Over the years, we shared many adventures with the dogs, including seeking chemotherapy and surgery for Sweetie Pie when we discovered she had cancer. Rod went into town and found a vet that was willing to treat her. Dr. Alma hiked into the hills with us and administered chemo. Then she arranged for Sweetie Pie to be transported to her office, where she performed a six-hour surgery that Rod assisted with. Sweetie Pie lived another three years. Rod’s determination to help her through her illness reflected his deep love and dedication to animals in need.
When it was time to leave that first summer, Rod hired a local family to feed the dogs during the months we were away and for the duration of the years we were friends with the dogs.
Each summer when we returned to San Miguel, we would head to the hills, clap our hands, and call out, “yip, yip, yip.” Within seconds dogs would come running from every direction. The pack changed from year to year, but there were always familiar faces as well as new dogs who seemed to learn quickly that Rod and I were their friends.
We spent our summers with the dogs taking them on hikes, visiting watering holes, and taking the dogs to a beautiful creek, where they would jump in and gleefully paddle around. On our 20th wedding anniversary, we celebrated in the hills with the dogs. The dogs enjoyed hot dogs and hamburgers while Rod and I had champagne. It was a glorious time for us with our hill dogs. They taught me so much: resilience, friendship, and the meaning of pure joy.
More than anything I learned about Rod’s unconditional love of animals. He wanted nothing from them, only the chance to enhance their lives a little. He sought no recognition for caring for them. It was a pure act of love.
One of the most heartwarming experiences with the San Miguel dogs was Rod’s care for Sweetie Pie. They became friends during the first summer when she was only weeks old. Sweetie Pie always wanted to go home with Rod at the end of a hike, and he had to firmly teach her “no, no, bye, bye,” so she wouldn’t follow him across the busy highway. She would lie down, drop her head sadly, and stay there until he was out of sight. The next day she would greet him when he came to hike, wagging her tail and leaping with joy to see him again.
When we arrived in 2010, we discovered Sweetie Pie had a large tumor. Rod went into town to find help and connected with Dr. Alma, who agreed to treat her. Chemo was given in the hills (see Image 2), followed by a six-hour surgery that Rod assisted with. Sweetie Pie lived another three years.
This lion episode illustrates Rod’s slightly rebellious personality, especially where animals were concerned. Rod was given strict instructions NOT to touch the lion especially on its rearend. Of course, Rod paid no attention because he said, "It’s just a kitty, and kitties love to be petted on their rear ends."
One year on the island of Stromboli in Sicily, we were walking around town, and Rod stopped to pet and feed a small, very friendly street cat. She immediately came under Rod’s spell. She, whom we named Friendly, jumped up on Rod’s shoulders; then crawled into his backpack. Every day we were there, we would visit Friendly to feed her.
Rod helped people too, including Don Eduardo, a man living in a cave in San Miguel. One day on a hike, an old man was singing at the top of his lungs and motioning for us to come over. When we got to him, Rod cleaned his cave and unleashed the dogs he had tied up in the cave so they could get some fresh air. In town, we learned that Don Eduardo was a well-known wood sculptor in the area.
Rod visited him over the next 10 years often showing up with our hill dogs and a bottle of tequila for Don Eduardo. He cleaned his cave, cared for his dogs, and provided him with friendship. When we were spreading his ashes, two of our hill dogs, Sweetie Pie and Isac, appeared to pay their respects. Upon his death, Rod was given the last wood sculpture he did. Her name is Flora, and she now lives with me.
One year on the very small island of Loutre in Greece, we were hiking to a beach when we came upon a donkey in a field. We stopped on the trail to say hello, and Rod gave it some very vigorous pets. It fell in love. When we continued our hike, it followed us for about 3 miles. It simply would not turn around to go home, and we had to backtrack on the hike to escort it back home.
In Sardinia, Italy, there was a dog tied in a yard. Every day when we passed by on our walk, he would bark and wag his tail, almost as if he were asking, “May I please go hiking with you?” It appeared that he had spent his life tied up.
One day, Rod jumped the fence, went in, unleashed him, and took him out. The owner stuck her head out the window and gestured with her hands, asking what he was doing. Rod made a gesture of walking, and she nodded yes. She knew what he was asking. The dog was so excited that he dragged us up the hill. We kept saying “easy,” and that’s how he earned his name, Easy Rider. We went to a lovely café right on the beach, unleashed him, and let him run.
Stories through the years
Donkey in Greece
Goats in Spain
Easy Rider in Italy
One of the most heartwarming experiences with the San Miguel dogs was Rod’s care for Sweetie Pie. They became friends during the first summer when she was only weeks old. Sweetie Pie always wanted to go home with Rod at the end of a hike, and he had to firmly teach her “no, no, bye, bye,” so she wouldn’t follow him across the busy highway. She would lie down, drop her head sadly, and stay there until he was out of sight. The next day she would greet him when he came to hike, wagging her tail and leaping with joy to see him again.
When we arrived in 2010, we discovered Sweetie Pie had a large tumor. Rod went into town to find help and connected with Dr. Alma, who agreed to treat her. Chemo was given in the hills (see Image 2), followed by a six-hour surgery that Rod assisted with. Sweetie Pie lived another three years.
This lion episode illustrates Rod’s slightly rebellious personality, especially where animals were concerned. Rod was given strict instructions NOT to touch the lion especially on its rearend. Of course, Rod paid no attention because he said, "It’s just a kitty, and kitties love to be petted on their rear ends."
One year on the island of Stromboli in Sicily, we were walking around town, and Rod stopped to pet and feed a small, very friendly street cat. She immediately came under Rod’s spell. She, whom we named Friendly, jumped up on Rod’s shoulders; then crawled into his backpack. Every day we were there, we would visit Friendly to feed her.
Rod helped people too, including Don Eduardo, a man living in a cave in San Miguel. One day on a hike, an old man was singing at the top of his lungs and motioning for us to come over. When we got to him, Rod cleaned his cave and unleashed the dogs he had tied up in the cave so they could get some fresh air. In town, we learned that Don Eduardo was a well-known wood sculptor in the area.
Rod visited him over the next 10 years often showing up with our hill dogs and a bottle of tequila for Don Eduardo. He cleaned his cave, cared for his dogs, and provided him with friendship. When we were spreading his ashes, two of our hill dogs, Sweetie Pie and Isac, appeared to pay their respects. Upon his death, Rod was given the last wood sculpture he did. Her name is Flora, and she now lives with me.
One year on the very small island of Loutre in Greece, we were hiking to a beach when we came upon a donkey in a field. We stopped on the trail to say hello, and Rod gave it some very vigorous pets. It fell in love. When we continued our hike, it followed us for about 3 miles. It simply would not turn around to go home, and we had to backtrack on the hike to escort it back home.
When hiking the Divine Gorge in the Picos de Europa mountains in Spain, we came upon a suspension bridge. We went across, and just behind us was a man carrying his two goats over the bridge. Of course, when he put them on the ground Rod had to make friends with them.
In Sardinia, Italy, there was a dog tied in a yard. Every day when we passed by on our walk, he would bark and wag his tail, almost as if he were asking, “May I please go hiking with you?” It appeared that he had spent his life tied up.
One day, Rod jumped the fence, went in, unleashed him, and took him out. The owner stuck her head out the window and gestured with her hands, asking what he was doing. Rod made a gesture of walking, and she nodded yes. She knew what he was asking. The dog was so excited that he dragged us up the hill. We kept saying “easy,” and that’s how he earned his name, Easy Rider. We went to a lovely café right on the beach, unleashed him, and let him run.
