I knew this rescue would not take him in either. They had a strict policy against aggressive dogs. It does not match with normal breed characteristics for golden retrievers. We had a mouthy golden when I was a kid until my mom did some training with a professional. I wondered if we could handle him, my husband and I. We had just moved to a large house with acreage and my current golden rescue, Tucker was getting up in years and I wanted another one. The rescue that I volunteered for would never let me adopt because we did not have a fenced yard in the traditional sense. We had the Invisible Fence but they did not think it kept dogs safe enough. I could see that point in some neighborhoods, but we lived in the country with no neighbors. The dog from Houston seemed like a golden opportunity. My husband had a job coming up in Houston in the next few days so he got the address and said he would just have a look. He came home with a dog that looked more like an Irish Setter than a Golden Retriever. He was papered and his birthday was on Valentine's Day.
The first thing we needed to do was change his name. Zeus, I felt, gave him too much power. Husband named him after his favorite book character. Gatsby. It would be nice to report that he and Tucker became instant friends but that just did not happen. There were some snarley fights and bloody ears. Finally they came to an understanding and stopped fighting, except on rare occasions. We also discovered that Gatsby thought cats were for chasing and eating. We had the Invisible Fence put a unit in the house to keep the dogs from going no further than the landing at the top of the stairs. Oh how the cats taunted him.
He WAS unruly, and spoiled. My husband was fond of picking up the squirmy 65 pound fluff ball and hugging him. He was difficult to walk and tried to attack most other dogs. If you ran across the yard, he would try to bite your hands. We sent him to boot camp. The best one in town. He came home with some manners but we obviously did not keep up with them very well. He regressed so we sent him back when we went on our delayed honeymoon.
So the manners thing, well, we just decided to ignore that and made sure that no friends brought their dogs over. We discovered he was great a sticking his heads down holes to catch rats, rabbits and skunks. It was not until I heard him crunching an armadillo shell that I realized that, they too, were hole dwellers to be caught. Safe to say, we never really had a rodent problem.
When I got pregnant, I was worried how he would be around the baby. I really worried that he would attack it like he would a small animal. As I was crossing the lawn on day to answer the phone, he leaped up and bit my hand. It was more like teeth hitting skin but it hurt and I knew I could not stand for that. I clasped my hands together and swung at him, rolling him across the lawn. He looked stunned sitting back on his haunches, From that day on, he never bit at my hands or arms when I ran by him.
The baby came and we did everything the books tell you about introducing a baby to your pet. Tucker liked the baby. Tucker liked to lick the baby. Tucker was ancient. He was 15, could not walk very well, hear very well or see very well. Gatsby was indifferent. He did not have time for this creature who stole his dad's attention from him. Did I mention that my husband spoiled Gatsby rotten? Tucker crossed over the Rainbow Bridge soon after Jake was born. Gatsby learned that babies meant food on the floor and likely leftovers.
As Jake grew though, Gatsby mostly still ignored him. I mean, pretended he was not even there, as he ran over him to go outside or get to food. Kiddo took it all in stride. We decided Gatsby was a little too sad and lonely after Tucker's death so we adopted Daisy from the shelter. She was the only dog who did not cower in a corner after meeting Gatsby. They cowered because he tried to dog fight everyone. Daisy, a border collie mix, was quick. She darted out his reach, got in her herding crouch and seemed to say "I am going to figure you out, tough guy." We loved her. She and Gatsby had some tussles but in the end she dominated him. She herded him all over the yard, running backwards to his running forwards. She herded small animals for him to catch. On two separate occasions, those small animals happened to be our cats who had gotten outside. The endings were not good for the kitties and I was glad I was out of town. I was so angry, mostly at Gatsby, because I had seen him go after the cats, mouth wide open on more than once.
So he lived happily guarding his home and people and keeping the yard free of armadillos and stray dogs. I was never as crazy for him as I was for Tucker. He was mostly my husband's dog. When we got divorced, we split up the dogs. I don't think Gatsby was looking longingly across the sound for Daisy's green light but he missed her. She missed bossing him around too. So the dogs went where Jake was, sort of. I only took Gatsby when his dad was traveling. It was hard to keep him away from the cats because the new house is much smaller but we worked it out. He learned the Invisible Fence at the new place too. I think Daisy faked him out, making him think it was a smaller area than it really was, because he stayed close for a long time. We used to joke that he was not bred for his intelligence, or that he must have been inbred and his brain was pinched in his cone head.
I will miss him. I know that we gave him a great life that he might not have gotten. He might have been put down much sooner because of the aggression. I mourn the loss of the kitties he killed but forgave him. He deserved a chance and we gave it to him. We did not take him places where he could hurt other dogs but I would have liked to have taken him swimming, like I used to take Tucker. My eyes hurt from crying and so do my son's. He went peacefully. Daisy must have said goodbye earlier because she was not very interested in the whole death thing. She was more concerned about us. I think she will be content being the solo dog. Gatsby's ashes will live at his dad's with the ashes of my dog Tucker.
Jake and I decided that now Gatsby is in heaven with Tucker, the horses, Sahil, Bailey and Chai and the kitties, Smudgie, Gracie and Virgie, along with my dead iPod (well it died too, so you figure it out). Perhaps in some great animal heaven comedy, the cats get to chase Gatsby for once, maybe even while riding horses.
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