A Tribute To: Goose

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Gooseberry Jam, the Rocket
Loved by Becky and Tom

Goose is the name of my dog.  He is my friend.  I miss him.  Only this year he would jump up to greet me, he licked my face, he pushed his body into me sideways for me to wrap my arms around him for a hug and for me to rub his head.
He would have tremors of joy before I released him and said, “okay,” then he would trot to the car only stopping to smell the flower vine growing around the mailbox.  I would help him into the car after putting his dog bed into it first.  Goose did not know that he could jump.  He would lift one front paw, then the other.  I would then raise one paw at a time from the door-frame to the backside of the backseat that I had folded down.  I would then go to the rear half of my long friend, count, “1…2…3” then lift the rest of Goose into the car.  Once inside, he would maneuver around to face me, I guess to check on me or to get one more hug before he lay down.

My new wife and I met Goose just a week after returning home from our honeymoon.  We had received a call from the CGA that a match had been found.  When we met him, he seemed like a kind soul that was putting up very patiently with what life had offered him so far.  We took him for a small walk, he saw a bunny, at the same time his ears went up his body froze, the bunny hopped away, and we kept walking. After a very short and exciting discussion (all three of us), we said yes.  I didn’t realize it then, but I had just met the most loving, best friend of my life.  We left Castle Rock with a new friend: aerodynamic like a jet plane, long, tall, skinny but with huge leg muscles, no hair on his bottom or his belly, plenty of scars on his legs, a tail that did not wag, a voice that made no sound; one blue collar and leash; one long-legged pink bunny stuffed animal – that has all the important squeaky parts!

What else can I say?  There were the usual surprises on my part, I’m sure there was learning on his part too.  This was my first dog, and he was at age 3 ½ learning what living in a house with people is all about.  Size “large” crates might as well be shoeboxes after he bumped into all sides, top and bottom turning around inside of it on the first night.  He asked us, “Really, you want me to stay in this thing?”  We didn’t know he would be so big.  Goose was a bit of an actor, he cried a little that first night; all three of us then decided it was best to sleep on the floor that night in the same room until we all knew what was going on.  We learned stairs, mirrors, glass doors, how to dance on four legs, soft things like dryer sheets and one pink sweater are nice to chew on (just a little bit though), and that playing tag according to Greyhound rules is a bit of a mystery – but fun!  Oh yeah, evidently there are not enough rawhide bones in this world.  Goose liked the snow, he would bound through it.  We bought him a jacket.  I bought Goose some winter shoes, sometimes he would come back inside missing one or four.  When asked about them, Goose just said, “They must have accidentally fallen off;” after watching, sometimes “accidentally,” was with the help of Goose’s teeth. Goose liked girls, not boys.  Maybe they smell better?  Goose, of course, liked walks; but every day places were just as nice as vacations.  I took Goose to the Garden of the Gods once, he said it was “okay.”  Goose liked swimming and even laying down in a lake with just his head sticking out.  My wife and I started making children’s stories about his worldwide adventures before he met us; we had artistic differences.  One time I was given a lost baby duck, I took it home.  While in its cage, Goose was sniffing it.  The baby duck pecked Goose on the nose through the bars of the cage.  Goose looked at us, then kept his distance from that dangerous baby duck.  If Goose had a bad feeling about a place, like where he got his nails trimmed, he would very politely say, “no thanks,” then refuse to get out of the car.  We always belived that Goose liked the movie “The Sound of Music” the best - there is lots of happiness in it. We always said it was as if his heart was about eight sizes bigger than the rest of us. He was all goodness and love. He walked around looking only to brighten someone’s day. It is with a quiet house and dying hearts that we write this about our beloved friend. A dog named Goose. The best friend we never knew we needed...



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