Gracie left me, quietly, on Sunday morning after giving up the battle. I think her extra-big loving heart just got tired. Gracie was my first golden retriever, a rescue dog at the age of six months. She had been tagged with the name Sandy but that just didn't fit her personality. Gracie was perfect. Sometimes she was called Gracelynn or Lynnie or another last-minute derivation of her name. It didn't really matter. She understood English. I swear she did.
The other dogs love to swim in the water, chasing balls. Gracie loved the water, regardless of the temperature. She swam and collected balls but her favorite activity that she did every single time without fail, was to "trawl" the water. I don't know how else to explain it. She walked along in the water around the lake's perimeter, looking, always looking. Every once in a while she got close to a large trout who always escaped in time. But every time, she traveled around the lake, walking in the water and watching.
This summer a water snake made the mistake of moving into her lane. In less than a second, her head was under water and when she surfaced, the snake was dangling out of both sides of her mouth. That was the snake's last swim. After Gracie threw the snake aside with a switch of her head, she continued her walk as if nothing unusual had happened.
When Gracie was younger, she and I would sit by our sliding doors and watch the squirrels on our deck. When the time was just right, I would quietly open another door and she would run like hell after the squirrels who immediately ran up the many trees around the house. I think the worst she ever did was maybe make those squirrels a little nervous -- but they always came back to the deck.
She loved rides in the car and looking out the window but only while we were traveling slowly. As soon as the ride became faster, she laid down on the seat and jumped back up when she sensed the car losing speed. Those times I had to let her in the car for a few minutes, she was always very patient, never complained, rested quietly, and was thrilled to see me upon my return.
Gracie turned 12 in July. It's almost exactly the date when she first became ours. Every owner has stories about their dogs, the dogs they love and rely on and who love them back all the time.
I know I'll write more about Gracie. Today my tears blur my vision. I hope she's able to finally catch a fish up in heaven (without hurting the fish).
Gracie taught me so very much. If I follow just some of what I learned from her, I'll become a much better person, human, and dog owner.
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