Ahh for the love of dog—Gracie

Feeling a little bit sentimental here.  I just found out with the hour that my beloved dog Gracie has an aggressive cancer and only has a short time left with us.

Somehow I think it’s appropriate that we are finding this out during Thanksgiving as I am extremely thankful for the thirteen years I have had with Gracie.

Gracie came to us when my kids—5 and 9—were conspiring to get a dog.  I knew that they wanted one, but I knew that I was going to be the one taking care of her.  At the time, all I could see was another responsibility piled up on my plate—I already taught full time, I was in graduate school, my insomnia was consuming my life and all I needed was one more responsibility.  But I also knew that the instant we adopted her that we would fall in love with her.

So we went off to the local shelter—St. Francis Animal Hospital—and there my youngest daughter, 5, fell head over heels for a little black lab mix puppy that had just been dropped off with the rest of her litter at about 6 weeks old.  The two were inseparable.  And before long, my wife was watching the two of them play and just realized that the name had to be Gracie.  She asked me and I said yes, it had to be.

Gracie was instantly a part of our family.  My youngest daughter doted on her for the first couple of months, but of course, due to puppies explosive growth, before long, Gracie was helping me raise my daughter.  Gracie watched over our land from our porch.  Anyone who dared to turn down our driveway would get an earful—and then a lick!  Gracie was all full of love and compassion for just about anyone.  

For me she played an especially important, helpful role.  Gracie entered my life as my insomnia was consuming my life.  Before too long, I would have to go on disability—the most humiliating experience of my life.  There I sat, all day, feeling like the world was passing me by while I sat all alone.  Except that I wasn’t alone—I had Gracie.  I would stare Gracie eye-to-eye, the bridge of her nose pressed against the bridge of my nose.  At first, Gracie hated this—it was unnatural, a threat and she growled defensively.  I continued to stare into her eyes as she growled an after a few moments, her eyes relaxed, she blinked and gulped, realizing that I was no threat, only her close companion.  After that point, when Gracie came to me whenever I got back home, she would approach me, drop her nose but look up with her eyes, wanting me to look at her nose-to-nose, eye-to-eye.

She has slowed down and we knew that she couldn’t go on forever.  About a month ago she got listless & stopped eating like she usually did.  Today I learned that she has an aggressive cancer and only has a short time to live.  I am strangely? Ironically? Appropriately? Pleased that this is happening over Thanksgiving.  For this Thanksgiving I will be eternally thankful for all of the love and companionship that Gracie added to my family and our lives for the last 13 years.  It is a sentimental, bittersweet to be certain, but Gracie was nothing but a blessing to myself and everyone who ever knew her.  We certainly will feel her loss, but what a wonderful dog—temporary family member she was.