She was my brother's dog. Selected from the last litter of my parents' Labs when she was just hours old. He took the only yellow female, I took the only black male. Gracie and Gunther.
Gracie went off with Jared to live in College Station. He trained her according to the advice given him by his boss, the owner of the Dixie Chicken. "Tie her to your leg for a day and she'll never leave you." And she didn't. Even when Gracie came back to live in San Antonio with our parents, if Jared was around, she was right next to him.
She was a good, GOOD dog. But she was also terrible. Much like her father, she loved the art of escape. She would tear boards off the fence and scramble her awkward yellow body out and run as fast as she could. She always came back, but she had to be watched. Tricky little girl. Jared said he once saw her climb a chain link fence in College Station, perch all four feet on the top, and jump to the other side. Always after adventure. We all have a "remember that time I had to tackle Gracie" story.
Mom asked Anna yesterday if she thought that maybe Gracie had been trying to escape again because she knew she was dying. Anna replied "No, she was always a little shit."
She didn't escape because she didn't want to be wherever she was, she did it for the sheer joy of running free, unbounded by fences and property lines. I'm pretty sure that if she had been human, she would have been a messy little girl with lopsided pigtails, strawberry jam dripped down the front of her ruffled dress, chocolate smeared across her face. Dirty hands gripping a crayon with determination, but completely unable and unwilling to stay within the lines. That was Gracie.
She often forgot how to eat from the self-feeder. She was awkward in many, many ways. Big and tall and with a tail that was slightly longer than the rest. Lopsided ears, but the sweetest face you could ever know. Rough and tumble from the get-go and possessing a ferocious bark that was heard only when she sensed a threatening presence on the other side of the fence.
Gracie was the embodiment of fun. She ran with big feet, always tilting a little to one side. Never quite with balanced form. And she loved everybody. She was especially fond of "helping" my sister get her tan on in the backyard. There was never a way for her to just be with you....she needed to be on you.
Our family is exceptionally close....even down to our dogs. So when Mom messaged Jared to come yesterday, he went immediately. She and Dad had discovered Gracie laying in the yard. Still. Her breathing was labored and she didn't wag her tail in characteristic greeting. A massive infection had begun to seep from her ear and eyes. They tried to move her but she was dead weight. She couldn't help move herself.
Anna was able to leave work for just a few minutes and tell her goodbye. If she could have, she would have stayed with her all day, brushing her and stroking her head between her eyes....that always made her relax.
When Jared got there he scooped Gracie up and carried her to her bed where he stayed with her, holding her for her last few hours. She was his little girl. He was her first love.
She was smitten with him from the very beginning. And she never stopped looking at him with the same awe. It was almost comical....she would very nearly swoon when he was around. It's like she would sink into her large frame, tongue hanging out, doe-eyed look on her face. Precious.
He carried her into the vet's office. Dad went with him. The vet felt of her and knew immediately. "Labs are prone to this...." She had a very large tumor on her liver, most likely pressing on her spine and causing the immobility and breathing difficulties. Had to be cancerous to take down such a big dog so fast.
She had been healthy just days ago.
So on Thursday afternoon, my Bub said goodnight to his beloved Gracie. One last time. And ever loyal, he held her as she slept.
Gracie ~July 13, 2001 - February 24, 2011~
Sorry I did not see this earlier. This was a wonderful, beautiful tribute to a good friend.
ReplyDeleteNan Sendelbach