Gracie Lou

It’s been quite a while since I last wrote a blog and I wish I were writing this one under better circumstances. Unfortunately, today’s is a eulogy for the late, great Gracie who we had to put down Friday afternoon at the grand old age of 11.

I don’t want you to feel bad for my loss though because I just feel bad for you that Gracie wasn’t your dog. Seriously. You missed out… sucker.

Seriously the coolest. Would your dog let you do that?

Gracie was the result of a solid year of lobbying for a dog (pulling the only child card works well, FYI), doing the research to determine which kind of dog would fit best with our family (we are NOT Chihuahua people), and showing my responsibility (I promised to walk her every day—this resolution lasted about 3 weeks before my dad took over walking duty). And finally, right around my 12^th birthday, we picked her up in Rapid City and drove her the 2 and a half hours back to Pierre during which time I rethought my entire position on having a dog. She had spent the first 7 weeks of her life in a kennel surrounded by other puppies and being covered in their bodily fluids. I spent the 2 and a half hours crammed into the back seat of the car with her as she rubbed all over me and vomited spectacularly every few miles from car sickness. She then spent the next few weeks acclimating to our house by alternating between peeing on the carpet and howling at the top of her little lungs. We eventually reached an understanding with each other wherein she (mostly) took care of her business outside and I rewarded her with copious amounts of treats.

I mean, how do you say "no" to begging like that?

Now should be the time where I talk about how well behaved she was and how she was a credit to the golden retriever name. That wasn’t really her style though… Honestly, she was a golden retriever in name only as she was never exactly able to grasp the concept of “retrieving.” She preferred playing “You throw it, I’ll go get it, then you come and try to get me” which resulted in 15 minute long games of her using the dining room table as a barrier between us which I chased her around before giving up. Later in life she also like the game “Go ahead and throw it. I’ll decide later if I actually want to go get it. And if I do go and get it, it will be in my own time and I may or may not bring it back to you.”

"Wait... I'm supposed to bring it back? That doesn't sound right..." 

The only place she actually did retrieve was at Her Beach. Not just any beach but Her Beach. If you tried to get her to fetch at any body of water other than her specific beach on Lake Oahe, she would look at you like you were stupid and then run off to find something dead to roll in. At Her Beach, however, you could throw stick after stick until you had thrown the equivalent of 9 innings of baseball and she would still be wanting more while you were asking for a cortisone shot.

All day, every day

Don’t get me wrong though, she did not have boundless energy. In fact, she perfected the art of “I’ll walk exactly as far as I want to walk and not one step further.” I can’t tell you how many times I took her for a walk and she would suddenly plant her feet and refuse to move. I could push, pull, bribe, or threaten and she would not move another step. However, if I said, “Ok, do you want to go home?” she would turn around and trot back to the house.

"I'm sorry. Were we in a hurry?" 

In fact, pretty much every thing was on her own time exactly as Her Majesty wanted it. When she felt it was time to be fed in the morning, she would walk up to the bed and whine until whoever was supposed to feed her got up. Did I mention she liked to be fed at 4 AM?

When she felt it was time to play, she would push her face completely to the bottom of her toy basket (because the toys on the bottom are the best, obviously), bring it to whoever she wanted to play with, and nuzzle into their hand until they gave in and played.

This is at 5 AM when she woke my friend up for play time 

When she felt it was time for her to be petted, she would paw the person ad nauseum until they petted her. And if it wasn’t up to her standards, she would continue to paw until the technique was up to par.

When she was ready to get in the car to leave, she would stand by the door and wait to be lifted in. This was partly due to old age and soreness but mostly because she was spoiled rotten and lazy.

And although my parents will kill me for revealing our deepest, darkest family secret, when the food was eaten off the dishes by the humans in the house, she was given them to lick off and therefore had a more sophisticated palate than 90% of South Dakota (1. Don’t worry, the dishes were all washed in the dishwasher on the most sanitary setting and my dog was cleaner than most people I know. 2. that is not a dig at South Dakotans, just a simple statement of fact that my parents cook and eat like kings)

If I haven’t already convinced you that Gracie was far and away the coolest dog ever, I’m sorry but you wouldn’t know greatness if it barked in your face (which Gracie would never do. I literally heard her bark less than 10 times her whole life). She spent the majority of her life chillin’ and finding the most unusual or in-the-way spots she could find to sleep.

Seems like a good spot

In the corner behind a chair? Sure

Against your pillow? Yes, please.

It's cool if I lay here, right?

I fricken hate you guys

Snuggling up

One of the last nights I was home, my parents, Gracie and I went downstairs to watch tv. I was sitting on one of the arms chairs minding my own business when Gracie came up to the chair and looked at me in a way that can only be described as a reproachful. I had forgotten that I was sitting in Her chair. I climbed out, stood up and walked to another seat while Gracie glared on. When I finally got out of her way, she climbed into the chair herself, looked at me for a while longer to remind me of how stupid I was, then closed her eyes and fell fast asleep. Next time I go home, I could sit in that chair if I wanted but I’d much rather being getting kicked out by the laziest 65 pound ball of fur in the world. Now excuse me while I go sob into my pillow while I look through all the Gracie pictures on my phone.

Gracie and her chair