On Sunday, July 1st at 12:18
P.M. I held her tiny little body in my arms and watched the life go out of her
eyes and body. The tears had been flowing pretty steadily by now, but as I
watched her leave me I let out a pitiful wail like that of an animal as well as
the sobs that humans make. She had been my constant companion for the last 3 ½
years that I have been home. At first when I was too sick to care for anyone
including myself, she would lie there next to me and get all excited when she
realized that I was finally awake. She was better than a Guardian Angel because
I knew that when I woke up I could reach over and pull her close to me and I
would try to dodge her quick little tongue that was trying to kiss my face as I
was trying to kiss her face too. Often we would just lie there together. I
would find just that perfect spot on her belly that made her little leg quiver
and she would be in heaven. As I got up and got stronger she would follow me
around but that was not something new; she did that even when I still worked at
the Bank. Each and every morning I would wake up to her little face and her
wagging tail and greet her like a long lost friend; even though it had probably
been only about 7 hours since we had last seen each other. Then together she
and I would head for the bathroom; I would take my shower and she would wait
patiently on the towel licking the clothing that I had shed on the floor. She even
greeted me with the same enthusiasm if I was just outside picking weeds for 15
minutes. You would think that she had not seen me in well, forever. She was
always under my chair, sharing my space and following me around constantly just
like a watchful Mother or friend would do.
Tom often said that he was always amazed at how she knew I
was coming home. Every Sunday when I would walk to the church, well anytime I
would leave the house, she always knew when my footsteps rounded the corner. I
could hear her shrill barking a half a block away and it always made me smile.
She was the glue that kept me together when I felt at my lowest and never left
my side, even though sometimes my foot would go astray on the bed and probably
give her a good wallop; She would just quietly move to the floor next to me and
sleep with that little snore resonating as she got older. Even if she detected a change in my breathing she would turn around and look at me; Funny how such a little thing was so acutely aware of my every move and breath.
Saturday night Tom took the evening shift. He told me he was
afraid to go to sleep; he was afraid that she would just sneak off into a
corner and he was not going to have any of that. But she did not do that. She
lay on his bed and then on the floor, whimpering. He cradled her in his arms
but she was too uncomfortable even there. She did stop whimpering for a bit but
soon wanted down and he obliged. She then found her way into my room and the
moment I heard her whimper I was up like a shot and she was in my arms. Tom
came in and said with tears in his eyes that that was exactly the place that
she wanted to be all along. She was finally able to doze off knowing that she
was and always would be safe in my arms.
I still remember going to see her for the first time at my
friend Colleens house. She was the runt in the first litter of Cheech and
Paris, a long-haired Chihuahua Dad and a toy poodle Mom. She was so teeny tiny
and had silky dark brown hair that was just beautiful to the touch. When we
took her home she was 2.5 pounds. Originally she was going to be Toms dog, but
when he went away for a few months the damage was done; I had officially stolen
his dog and our love affair began. It is funny how circular life can be
sometimes. Just last week I found the first vet bill for her. Colleen called
her Lil Girl and she was born on April 23, 2002; she just celebrated her tenth
birthday. Her vet was Dr. Dioniosio at the time; funny thing though is that Dr.
D is exactly whom we rushed her to on Thursday of this last week when I was
frantic that she was so ill. Although he does not know it he was her very first
vet, he unfortunately does know that he was her last.
Every day for the rest of my life I will think of the funny
way her back curled to the left and her bushy tail wagged when she got really
excited. How she could curl her tongue and sneak it up your nose in a flash and
just love to clean anyones face. She loved everyone; for such a little girl she
sure had a big heart. Forever I will remember the early years when she raced
around the neighbors grass playing with all of the children, who just loved
her. The way she needed help to get up on even the lowest furniture because she
was vertically challenged. How her
voice would change from an - I want water bark, NOW, to - I hear something
outside and I am going to scare them away. The way she could sit on her
haunches, like a penguin, straight up and down, and beg for her food with her
little paws bobbing up and down. (Look at me! I am so cute and smart and I need
that breakfast plate now!) I taught her how to dance, to say please and to sit
and in return she taught me a thing or two about love. She taught me to find
joy in every moment spent together. She taught me that even the smallest of Gods
creatures can provide the greatest joy and love to the smartest (well
supposedly) of all his creations.
A large piece of my heart is missing today and it is funny
but I can still hear her barking. I turn and expect to see her there, but she
is not. She was my Lil Girl, my
Mommy, my joy and probably the love of my life and what a lucky woman I was
that she chose me to be her best friend too.
Rest in Jesus arms my little Crazy Gracie, until we meet
again.
In Remembrance of Gracie Hare, Not just a pet but a beloved family member,
4/23/02 – 7/1/12
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