In Memory of Gator: The Best Friend A Girl (or Guy) Could Ever Have

One Saturday afternoon in May 1999, my husband, Scott, informed me that he and our son were "going to look at a puppy." Since no one goes to "look at a puppy," I knew that meant we were getting one. What I didn’t know, however, was that our lives would be forever changed and that I was about to fall head over heels in love with a great big "lion king."

I don’t remember Gator as ever really being a puppy. At three months old, he was already a monster … with gigantic paws and a tail that was more of a weapon. Every time you said hello, you’d hear the "thump, thump, thump" of his tail on the floor ... or the wall ... or the furniture. And you could always count on Gator for the following:

• the same enthusiastic welcome (no matter if you were gone for four minutes or four days),
• the presentation of a "gift" upon your arrival (a shoe, a newspaper, or whatever was available), 
• and always being underfoot … figuratively and literally. 

I can’t count the number of times I almost fell over him, but where you were, he had to be. And he could will you to do things – we called it his "Jedi Mind Trick." He loved apples and he knew they were in the basket on top of the fridge. He’d look at the fridge, then at you, then the fridge, then you and so on until he "moved" you to action. A cored apple was his idea of heaven. Actually, any kind of food was his idea of heaven. I called him an "Italian Labrador Retriever."

He did have some "Marley" moments – setting off the glass break detector multiple times by knocking things off the counter in search of food. When he stood up on his hind legs, he was about six feet tall and he would slide himself down the counter to reach whatever he could – loaves of bread, bags of apples, boxes of cereal, tins of brownies. He ate chocolate (and lots of it) on several occasions – from an entire batch of brownies to five chocolate Easter bunnies and even a William & Sonoma Bundt cake mix that Scott had tucked under the Christmas tree for me one year. Perhaps because of his size, he seemed to be immune.

I have to confess that I really wanted a lap dog, but a yellow lab was Scott’s "dream dog," and since Scott had the girl and kids of his dreams, how could I deprive him? And even though he didn’t sit in your lap, Gator captured more hearts than any dog I ever knew. Even people who weren’t dog lovers fell in love with Gator. He was larger than life with a gregarious spirit and a gentle soul. I will never forget his compassion when, after the loss of my mother, he literally didn’t leave my side for days. He even lay outside the shower waiting for me. And he was ever the protector. Like a sentry, he would wander from room to room to make sure all was well and then he would position himself in between rooms to keep an eye on everyone who was home.

We were lucky to enjoy nearly 14 years with Gator. He would have turned 14 (98 in dog years) on February 24. It wasn't until the last year that he slowed down. His hearing and eyesight had diminished and we even had to wake him up sometimes when we came home. But he never lost his appetite or his wag until the very end. We will love you forever Gator. Thump, thump, thump.