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Photo by Todd Cooper
Remembering Doc
ROBERT WILSON AND HIS TINY DOG CHICA
WERE FIXTURES IN DOWNTOWN EUGENE
By Donny Morrison
R
obert “Doc” Wilson moved to Eugene
only in 2015, but he and his cowboy
Chihuahua, Chica, were soon ubiqui-
tous downtown.
You probably saw them in Kesey
Square or at Saturday Market, Doc
in his wheelchair and veteran’s garb,
Chica in the array of outfits he dressed the small dog in.
He and Chica had been unhoused off and on for the past
10 years. The square was where they’d hustle for change
and be with those who loved them — and everyone seemed
to love them.
Doc embodied the very best part of Eugene, his friends
say — that no matter who you are, you can find a sense of
community here.
Doc passed away in his apartment on Nov. 11, Veterans
Day, from a heart attack.
He got his nickname “Doc” after serving as a medic
in the U.S. Army in the ’80s. Although he had no next
of kin in the area, his Eugene friends considered him
family.
Following Doc’s death, Chica was held at the Greenhill
Humane Society shelter for two nights and then found a
home with Doc’s close friend Andrea Martinez.
By all accounts Doc was never seen without Chica
by his side. Doc always said he saw Chica thrown from a
moving car while he was driving on a California freeway
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10 years ago. He pulled over, scooped her up and nursed
the little dog back to health.
Eugene Weekly profiled Chica and Doc after the city
implemented a dog ban that made it illegal for people
to have their dogs with them downtown unless they
lived there. The ban excluded service animals, but many
unhoused owners like Doc don’t have the resources or
money to get their animals certified.
The Eugene City Council approved the downtown
Eugene pilot ordinance in early 2017. It was updated to
ban all dogs — including puppies — without a license and
rabies shots. Opponents to the dog ban say that it’s a way
for the city to discriminate against the unhoused in an
attempt to push them out of downtown.
Doc also found community with the Rainbow Family
of Living Light, a loosely knit community of people who
come together annually to camp at the Rainbow Gathering.
The movement sprouted from the ’60s counter-culture,
as an attempt to be free of consumerism and capitalism.
Rainbow Gatherings now happen all over the world.
“One of the best cooks and bakers around,” Coleen
Clark, known as Momma Bear to her Rainbow Family,
says of Doc. “He could whip up something out of nothing,
and it’d be delicious. But what he was really famous for
was his ‘Zsu Zsus.’”
Zsu Zsus, as Momma Bear describes them, were any
sweet treat made from whatever you had on hand.
“And in the woods, that ain’t much,” Momma Bear
says. “But he’d stay up all night making Zsu Zsus for
hungry hippies.”
Another one of Doc’s specialties was “Goo Balls,” which,
according to Momma Bear, are a mix of chocolate, oats,
chopped up fruit or raisins and peanut butter, all mixed
together into little round balls. He’d use THC butter for
those who wanted “Ganja Goo Balls.” He also made cin-
namon rolls.
Doc’s friends remember him for his kindness and sense
of humor. He had a passion for music and particularly
loved the Grateful Dead.
Close friend Chris Ordway will miss Doc’s dirty jokes
and infectious laughter.
“The worst thing you could say about him would be
that he sometimes laughs too loud,” Ordway says. “He was
just a good soul. There wasn’t anything bad about him.”
For the past couple years, Doc sold homemade but-
tons from his wheelchair on the weekends. His friends
say that those lucky enough to see Doc at the Saturday
Market would have definitely noticed his sense of humor.
Martinez, who Doc said should have Chica if anything
were to happen to him, says you’ll still be able to see Chica
around the Saturday Market next year.
“Yes, we will be going every so often to keep up ap-
pearances,” he says, “and to keep Doc’s button business
going.” ■
E U G E N E W E E K LY . C O M