Online Memorials

Gatsby to the Bridge

We lost part of our family today. Our beloved Gatsby left us to join his father over the bridge, and he takes a part of us with him. I still remember the first day I saw Gatsby. He was a “stud puppy,” and when we went to pick him up at the airport, this bundle of black fur greeted us. We were hoping to see a replica of his father, Dawson, but it was readily apparent that he would not be the “the next great show dog.” We knew the “smart thing” to do would be to ship him back, but he was such a wonderfully happy little puppy that we knew he had a forever home. All Gatsby wanted to do was please us. I took him to a couple of shows where he won the points, but we knew he wasn’t the quality that we wanted to show, so he “retired” from the ring. Shelly ran him in agility, and he did so for her, but it really wasn’t his forte. He needed a job, but there just didn’t seem to be anything for him. He was just our “wiggle-butt,” and part of our family. Then he met Jill, and he adopted her as part of his family. He even took “Sissy” the Pug as his sister. For him, it was love at first sight. He saw that Jill could use his help and she quickly became his “second Mother.” It took very little training from Shelly; Gatsby just took to being Jill’s service dog. All he wanted was to be with her and help her. He was always the sweetest dog, but when he was with Jill he could also be her protector. He was never happier than when he would help her walk, be with her at the office, and sleep at her bedroom door. So the little puppy who really wasn’t a show dog, who really wasn’t a performance dog, had found his niche. He obviously was sent to us to be part of our family, and to show his great heart by being there for Jill. My mind asks why a wonderful dog like this is with us such a short time. And my heart answers that he was sent to teach us Love. He was happiest when with his family. We will miss him desperately, and we know he is now reunited with his father and uncles. Be happy, dear Gatsby. May the shamrocks fall softly …