I guess writing an obituary for a dog would seem ridiculous to some folks. Longtime readers of the Weekly Report understand that I can be ridiculous, so you’ll have to indulge me just a little bit this week. Our beloved Gertie is gone.
Gertrude, aka Gertie Girl, aka Queen Gertrude – First of Her Name, aka Gertie the Love Beagle, aka Ms. Gertie, aka Miss Wiggle Bottom was a special kind of hound.
Many tears were shed when they put her down Thursday night at Carytown Veterinary Hospital, but the sadness soon turned to relief that she was no longer suffering. Tears of sadness quickly turned to tears of laughter when the reminiscing started. There were so many great stories of a dog that was a member of our family and our work family for almost 16 years.
Gertie wasn’t always easy to love. She could be bossy and demanding. She could also be quite gassy. She tried to eat anything that was smaller than her and tried to fight any dog that was bigger. She could smell a cheeseburger wrapper from a mile away and ate enough garbage to kill any normal dog thrice over. She ate the neighbor’s cat’s food. She once ate an entire Christmas stocking of chocolates and then went back and ate the wrappers. She ate paper plates and tennis shoes and tin foil. She was quite adept at destroying carpets, using any number of means.
The good folks at Sycamore Vet knew her by name and called her a “frequent flyer” — because of the numerous visits and her penchant for darting out the door upon arrival. She had an appointment with them on Monday. Now, I’ll have to cancel and let them know the news.
She was a constant, if oftentimes annoying and unwelcome, guest at Madison+Main, but our staff loved her anyway. They graciously tolerated her “accidents” and would rush to put their trash cans on top of their desks whenever Ms. Gertrude roamed the hallways.
My kids, Hattie and Jack, are devastated. Jack was four and Hattie was eight when we brought her home during Christmas of 2006. Both drove back to RVA to say their final goodbyes and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Everyone at our office is a little sad today, so bear with us. We’ve been in business for 17 years and that stinky, cranky, brown-eyed, barking little mutt was with us for 16 of those years. And for those keeping count she was 87 in dog years…not a bad run for a beagle that had nine lives.
We can only hope she is now in doggie heaven, running up and down a beach, chasing a squirrel, or tearing through a bag of Chick-fil-A leftovers. #RIPGertie