We had gotten 2 beagles. Beautiful little pups, which we named Violet and Laurel. I can still see those small bodies with fat, round puppy bellies stretched across our couch. They were cute as all hell and just as much trouble.
Came a point in their lives when they met the beagle down the street from us. His personality was that of a good ol' boy but between the 3 of them, they could run and run they did. No matter how hard we tried those girls wanted out and the slightest gap in a door meant they bolted for freedom. Eventually they didn't make it home.
When we finally decided it was time to get another dog (1 not 2) we went to the humane society. When filling out the paper work there was a question about what kind of breed we would not like. We said hound. Anything that wanted to run. We still had our greyhound Daisy living with us but she was somewhere around 16 years old at the time and her running days were long gone. She loved to curl up on the rug next to the baseboard and soak up the heat. And we wanted a small dog. We had a lifetime of larger dogs. Dogs that could take up the back seat of a car or half of a full size couch.
There was a call a couple of weeks later about a litter of 3 pups that had just come in. Two boys and a girl. Could I come and look at them? I had to hurry because I was informed small dogs are popular. In a state where you think big dogs would abound people actually wanted small dogs. I called them and said I would be there immediately after work. I rushed there breaking most of the speeding laws and got to the humane society with about 10 minutes to spare before they closed the doors for the day. On the counter was a cat carrier and inside this carrier were the 3 pups. She opened the door and one by one these tiny puppies stumbled out, blinking and yawning just having gotten up from a nap. That is the 2 boys came out that way. The third, a little female came prancing out as if she owned the world. She had pine pitch on her nose from a recent foray into the world where she tried to conquer a pine tree. She was 3 pounds of hell on wheels and I fell for her. She had attitude and I loved it.
I signed the papers and walked to the car with a dog my husband was later to say I got because our hair coloring was the same.
Now I was faced with the dilemma of a 20 minute or so drive with a puppy, how was I going to do it? I sat there pondering the question when this pup with absolute authority managed to crawl out of my arms and settled herself between the head rest and my neck, promptly falling asleep. Dilemma resolved, I drove home.( And yes she slept the whole way.)
As we all know the naming of a dog is crucial. And as I drove I ran various names through my head. I really wanted to name her after a flower. Marigold? No. Geranium? No. Rose? No. On and on it went. Nothing was coming. This was odd because over the years if an animal hadn't already been named by a previous owner, naming an animal was never difficult. I turned on to Rte 35 and was about 5 or so minutes from home with no name for this pup and for some reason I felt she needed to be named before I pulled up our driveway. I looked to my left and I saw it, the perfect name, Grace. I named my dog after a hospital, Grace Cottage Hospital. A place very important in our lives and that of our area communities. So she became Grace, Gracie, Miss G or the queen.
She is 15 years old now and we are facing end of life issues. She is not well. My faithful companion who has been at my side through the absolute worse of times is dying. Her fur has gone from red to white about her face. She sleeps a lot. But worse is she can no longer hear me and cannot see the tears I am shedding for her. I had hoped that somehow I would not have to make a decision like this. That she would slip peacefully into whatever realm awaits her loving soul without my help. But now I have to make that appointment and one last time hold her in my arms. For now I will listen to that snore that has become her trademark and watch her as she twitches in her sleep dreaming of more youthful pursuits. I wish everyone could have such an animal in their lives as Gracie. I did not save her so much as she saved me.
Came a point in their lives when they met the beagle down the street from us. His personality was that of a good ol' boy but between the 3 of them, they could run and run they did. No matter how hard we tried those girls wanted out and the slightest gap in a door meant they bolted for freedom. Eventually they didn't make it home.
When we finally decided it was time to get another dog (1 not 2) we went to the humane society. When filling out the paper work there was a question about what kind of breed we would not like. We said hound. Anything that wanted to run. We still had our greyhound Daisy living with us but she was somewhere around 16 years old at the time and her running days were long gone. She loved to curl up on the rug next to the baseboard and soak up the heat. And we wanted a small dog. We had a lifetime of larger dogs. Dogs that could take up the back seat of a car or half of a full size couch.
There was a call a couple of weeks later about a litter of 3 pups that had just come in. Two boys and a girl. Could I come and look at them? I had to hurry because I was informed small dogs are popular. In a state where you think big dogs would abound people actually wanted small dogs. I called them and said I would be there immediately after work. I rushed there breaking most of the speeding laws and got to the humane society with about 10 minutes to spare before they closed the doors for the day. On the counter was a cat carrier and inside this carrier were the 3 pups. She opened the door and one by one these tiny puppies stumbled out, blinking and yawning just having gotten up from a nap. That is the 2 boys came out that way. The third, a little female came prancing out as if she owned the world. She had pine pitch on her nose from a recent foray into the world where she tried to conquer a pine tree. She was 3 pounds of hell on wheels and I fell for her. She had attitude and I loved it.
I signed the papers and walked to the car with a dog my husband was later to say I got because our hair coloring was the same.
Now I was faced with the dilemma of a 20 minute or so drive with a puppy, how was I going to do it? I sat there pondering the question when this pup with absolute authority managed to crawl out of my arms and settled herself between the head rest and my neck, promptly falling asleep. Dilemma resolved, I drove home.( And yes she slept the whole way.)
As we all know the naming of a dog is crucial. And as I drove I ran various names through my head. I really wanted to name her after a flower. Marigold? No. Geranium? No. Rose? No. On and on it went. Nothing was coming. This was odd because over the years if an animal hadn't already been named by a previous owner, naming an animal was never difficult. I turned on to Rte 35 and was about 5 or so minutes from home with no name for this pup and for some reason I felt she needed to be named before I pulled up our driveway. I looked to my left and I saw it, the perfect name, Grace. I named my dog after a hospital, Grace Cottage Hospital. A place very important in our lives and that of our area communities. So she became Grace, Gracie, Miss G or the queen.
She is 15 years old now and we are facing end of life issues. She is not well. My faithful companion who has been at my side through the absolute worse of times is dying. Her fur has gone from red to white about her face. She sleeps a lot. But worse is she can no longer hear me and cannot see the tears I am shedding for her. I had hoped that somehow I would not have to make a decision like this. That she would slip peacefully into whatever realm awaits her loving soul without my help. But now I have to make that appointment and one last time hold her in my arms. For now I will listen to that snore that has become her trademark and watch her as she twitches in her sleep dreaming of more youthful pursuits. I wish everyone could have such an animal in their lives as Gracie. I did not save her so much as she saved me.
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