I put this at the end of another post, but I didn’t think it did him justice, so it’s going here.
Our oldest dog, Gizmo, passed away while I was in the hospital. It breaks my heart I wasn’t there in his final moments. You love all our dogs and are so good with them. You call Gizmo “Meemo”, and you still call out to him occasionally or try to feed the doll that momma got with Meemo’s picture on it. I know your blog is kind of a weird place for this, but I wanted to show you one of your first dogs that you were so fond of. Gizmo was the perfect balance of crazy, playful, curious, and cuddly. In his older years he’d seek me out and lay next to my lap and get some old man sleep in, I think he liked that I didn’t let you pull his ears or tail.
I have so many wonderful memories of this dog, but here are a few that stand out.
I remember the first time I met him. I came to visit Sheri and she told me she had a surprise. I don’t know how, but I just knew it was a dog. I walked into the bedroom, and out from under the bet darts this little puppy who bites my toes and immediately retreats. It was love at first sight. I remember his floppy little ears that were so cute and would perk up over time. He’d try so hard to play with Sheri’s lab, Luke, but Luke for the most part just wasn’t having it. I think it was the sharp puppy teeth.
Gizmo was obsessed with attacking balls. I remember being at a friend’s house trying to play basketball, and Gizmo decided the basketball on that day was his nemesis. After a while it was more about Gizmo than the game itself. We’d throw it back and forth and he’d run after it as if his life depended on it. He’s the kind of dog that won’t quit first, we had to make him stop playing for his own good.
We’d take the dogs out on the lake. Luke would glide through the water as if he was raised there. Gizmo liked to spend time in the boat or on a floaty, but if you threw a toy in the water he was going in. Bug eyed and frantic, he’d recover the toy and make his way back asap to get out of the water.
He loved to follow me around the house. I used to joke with Sheri that out of you, Brie, Mugsy, and Gizmo, only Gizmo prefers me so it’s going to suck when he’s gone. He’d snuggle up next to me on the couch, lay under my desk, or sit on the chair I kept next to mine at the computer that was just for him. Sheri referred to him as my co-pilot.
Gizmo was my first dog that was actually mine, so he was very special to me. He was my friend, my family, and my companion, and I hope he knows how much I love him wherever he is right now. I miss him every day, and I pray there comes a time when I can see him again.
I know this is getting long, but I want to tell you something that always impressed me with Gizmo. He lived for 12 years, he would have been be 13 in about a week from this post. If Gizmo ever saw a squirrel, he chased after that thing with every ounce of energy he had in his little body. He wouldn’t hesitate, he saw what he wanted and went for it every time. I’d say he looked ferocious if he wasn’t 20 pounds. Then again, the squirrels seemed to take the situation pretty seriously. Sometimes he’d be stopped by the leash, sometimes it was the tree. Gizmo never caught a single squirrel, and that’s what I find so impressive. Despite never succeeding, he never gave up or let off the gas even a little bit. He never quit because it was hard or impossible. It’s like he understood that life is more about finding joy in the pursuit than necessarily reaching the goal. Sometimes all you can control is your effort and attitude. I know it’s corny, but I thought about Gizmo when I was finishing my master’s degree, taking the CPA exam, and deciding if I should go out and try to start a new company. Even if I didn’t succeed, I would be proud of myself for trying because I knew I was always going to try my hardest. I’ll be so proud of you for every attempt you make, too, I don’t care if you succeed as long as you give it everything. It’s easy to move on when you find success, the true test of character is how you react when you fail. I hope you get back to it like Gizmo would.
Dear Molly 