The Rainbow Bridge

I have blogged about my aging Golden Retriever, Luke, before. However, this post is a tribute to my mum's dog, Gertie, who recently passed away.

When I was a kid we had a big, black dog named Churchill (who was named after the tank, not the man) but after he passed my parents did not want to get another. "We will never find another like him" was what I remember hearing. So two countries, a divorce, and many years later my mum decided that she was ready to finally get another dog. I was volunteering for the Gloucester County Animal Shelter at the time so mum came to visit one day and took a shine to the very large doberman mix that I was babysitting. He was a young, active dog and I did not think that this would be a good fit for her but mum was insistent. However, another person had first dibs on the doberman mix and went with a different family. Mum was disappointed.

A couple of weeks later, Mum and I visited the shelter one night and visited with several of the dogs there. We saw a lovely hound mix that was just not right and then we visited with a Rottweiler that was five years old. We took her outside on a leash so that we could get a better feel for the dog. The dog was very relaxed and seemed so happy to get any kind of attention. The worker at the shelter told us that the Rottweiler had been labeled as 'cage aggressive' by some of the other workers at the shelter but that she had never seen an signs of it. Mum and I stared at this happy, smiley dog in disbelief and Mum promptly decided that this was her new dog.

So Gertie came home a couple of days later after being spayed. We discussed the chance that she could exhibit some aggressiveness and that Mum should be firm and careful with her. After all, she was a cage aggressive Rottweiler!! We should not have worried, Gertie was a model dog, the most un-Rottweiler I have ever met. She loved to be walked and ride in the car. She went hiking like she was born wearing a backpack and even tried swimming in the pool for a while.

Gertie was totally unfazed by chaos, of course the fact that she turned out to be quite deaf helped with that. She was a slow, laid back kind of dog that everyone loved to pet but could be whipped up into quite a frenzy by the mere sight of a flashlight. There is nothing funnier than seeing a ninety pound Rottweiler spinning around like a mechanical bull after the sunlight shining through the chandelier.

So here's to Gertie, the dog that took over where Churchill left off. May your days be bright at the Rainbow Bridge and the hot dogs plentiful.