Good-Bye Sweet Girl Gypsy

We buried our goodest girl Gypsy on Monday. She went night-night Saturday evening, and didn’t wake up Sunday morning. A peaceful and content passing, so much like she lived her life. When I told my sister G-momma had passed, she immediately said “that girl will go to heaven, she was already an angel”. Truer words never spoken.

Gypsy was the matriarch of our program. Our first momma dog, and I dare say our best. Gypsy loved mothering and continued to mother puppies who were not her own long after she retired. Years after she was spayed, we’d see her stand for pups to suckle, knowing she didn’t have a drop of milk, just offering them a pacifier. She was the nanny around here, and tended to everyone’s younguns. G schooled them, nurtured them, and loved them like her own.

Her people were her favorite thing in life, puppies were a close second, and food - well, food might’ve trumped us all. Ol girl was sneaky, let me tell ya. Gyp was a world class counter surfer, and never turned down a bite of anything. She’s snatched an entire roast beef sandwich right out of my hand and swallowed it whole, paper towel and all, before I’d even realized what had happened. She once countersurfed a crockpot of 7 bean soup I’d left out to cool. The crockpot broke into a million pieces, and she somehow managed to eat 6 quarts of soup without disturbing any of the broken ceramic. When I discovered her mischief, I was certain we were headed for emergency surgery, but it was like it never even happened. Stomach of steel! I have dozens of stories about her thieving. G-momma loved her some grub.

In the last two years of her life, Gypsy slowed down significantly. You could usually find the Sofa Queen sacked out in a bed by our front door, lounging on the sofa in the puppy Nursery or if the weather was nice, snoozing by the pool. Gypsy couldn’t hear too well in her later years, so we adjusted to a noisy approach so we wouldn’t startle her. When her body wouldn’t let her jump up in mini-truck anymore, I started using the van instead so she could join me bumping around the farm. Sweet girl loved to ride, and never said No Thanks to a Load Up invitation. Mostly deaf, gray in the muzzle, stiff in the joints, but still so happy and so content every single day.

Gyp was an old gal, but she wasn’t sick or suffering, and I’m so grateful for that. I’m terribly sad we didn’t get to tell her goodbye properly, and tell her how much we loved her, but my heart knows that Gypsy was well aware. That old girl knew we were crazy about her. I have to believe she knew just how deeply she was loved.

There was never a time I couldn’t coax a smile out of her. I know she loved us back as unconditionally as we loved her. Our place just won’t be the same without our goodest girl G. I can’t bear looking at her empty bed by the door, but I also can’t bear to remove it. Goodbyes are so very hard. We miss you sweetest thing. Rest easy darling.

Franklin’s Mysterious Gypsy 4/10/10 - 3/26/23

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