Gator -- a big-hearted fellow who loved the chase...

            The story of a good dog would never be known without the love of a human.
            No one would be around to tell us of the dog’s majestic nature, of his adventures, of his affect on their lives.
            Readlarrypowell.com got a note Monday from Cari Weinberg about her old pal Gator.      We’d written about the handsome dog before in our weekend feature “Let Sleeping Dogs Lie & Napping Cats Nap.” Gator was an accomplished snoozer. (See our January 30, 2009, report HERE. 
            As you can tell from these photos, Gator also had some gray in his whiskers. No spring chicken, but, still....well, Cari said it best in the opening paragraph of her note to us:
            “My old black Lab, Gator, passed away on Saturday. He was such a happy and eager guy, that I just didn’t’ see this happening the way it did even though he was at least 15 years old.
“He fell and broke his leg. The emergency vet thought cancer was behind the weakness in his bone. He was scared and there was no other option so we let him go. My boyfriend Dave and my rescue friend, Paige Anderson, got him to the vet. I was in Marfa and following the rapidly unfolding events over the phone, feeling heartbroken that I couldn’t be with Ol’ Man Gator (we always sung his name to the tune of Ol’ Man River). That night there was an amazing West Texas sunset and the next morning on my friend’s ranch, I woke to the best sunrise I’ve ever seen. I’d like to think he was part of them both.”
            As Cari says, “It’s tough to lose a good ol’ dog; writing his story helps member remember some of my best Gator moments.”
            Here is Cari’s tribute to the magnificent Gator, a good ol’ dog:
            “Gator was a character. He was adopted from a Little Rock, Arkansas rescue group (CARE — Central Arkansas Rescue Effort for Animals) in 2002 or 2003. My elderly Lab had passed away and I decided to adopt another one. Gator’s grey muzzle, sweet face on Petfinder and easygoing description made me realize that this 7-8 year old lab was ‘the one.’
            His original name was ‘Harry.’ A volunteer with the rescue group had seen him at the Cabot, Ark., pound and when a spot in her rescue came open she and her young daughter raced to get him. When they arrived, he was minutes away from being put down.
            In response to his narrow escape, the young daughter said, ‘Mom, he’s magic! Just like Harry Potter!’ To my knowledge this was Gator’s greatest escape."
            [How did Harry become "Gator"? Cari explains that she'd picked out a bunch of grand names for him, but he changed her mind on the road home, "When I adopted him, I met the CARE volunteer halfway at a truck stop in Texarkana. Gator hadn't been in a car much at that point and insisted on riding shotgun and keeping a paw on me the whole time. That paw thing got in the way of steering, so I actually held his paw with one hand and steered with the other, switching off from time to time. Because he was so anxious, he drooled all the way from Texarkana to Frisco and my arm and the armrest were sopping wet when I pulled into my driveway.
            "He puffed and chuffed the whole way home. His heavy breathing his love of gobbling food in a Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom kind of way and his good ol' boy demeanor all added up and I realized this dog was more of a 'Gator' than anything else."]
            Cari continues, "After a few weeks of settling in and impressing me with his happy and easygoing demeanor, Gator showed me that he actually had much more in common with Harry Houdini than with Harry Potter.
            “A door, blown open by the wind led to my first ever ‘Gator Chase.’ No matter how close I got or how loudly I called his name, Gator just liked to run free. The first chase involved me following him with the car, slowly rolling behind him with his frame in my headlights while herding him to my house where a friend waited to pounce on Gator and get him back in the house.
            “He went on to have other great escapes. Once, he took off during an ice storm that struck during evening rush hour.
            “At the time I lived three houses off of Preston road in Frisco where cars were slipping and sliding. I tried to catch him and then decided to hire a group of neighborhood kids to help me corral Gator before he dashed in front of a car on the slick road. There was lots of running and hustling and sliding involved in that Gator Chase. He slept for an entire day after that one.
            “During another escape that took place on one of the hottest summer days, Gator headed for a nearby creek. He was around 10 at the time and tired quickly. My roommate found him wallowing around on the muddy creek bed in the shade. And when she found him, he acted as if he couldn’t walk (this was a patented Gator trick when he knew he was in trouble).
            “As she tried to drag him back home, a group of neighborhood kids spotted her heaving an uncooperative large dog and said, ‘Hey, lady, put him in our wheelbarrow!’
            “ She wheeled him a quarter of a mile home with a gaggle of kids in tow. Gator must have felt like the Pied Piper.
            “There were other great escapes – the time he visited a friend’s lake house and managed to slip out of his harness in under 10 minutes (he jovially returned a few hours later and stuck close for the rest of our visit).
            “After I moved to Little Forest Hills in East Dallas, Gator was older and slower, but he still liked to ‘go walkabout’ when the chance presented itself. There were several times that cars of neighbors traversed the neighborhood looking and calling for him. Like clockwork, as soon as he was caught he’d act like he couldn’t walk – sneaky fellow.
            “In between the escapes, there were lots of walks and occasionally a jaunt to the country where he could run and swim to his heart’s content on a friend’s land. He loved those visits.
            “At home, Gator was as laid back as could be. He loved eating and lounging. He was a master napper but was also sly when it came to stealing cheeseburgers from your hand.
            “He enjoyed watching me make dinner, always on the lookout for a fallen morsel. Soon after he was adopted, he figured out that the comfiest bed in the house was the bed his person slept in. I would often wake up to an ear full of snores and ¼ of a pillow – the rest of it occupied by Gator, of course.
            “Throughout my dating career he usually warmed up to the nice guys and ignored those who would prove themselves otherwise.
            “After a teary phone call that signaled the end of a relationship, Gator came over to the spot on the floor where I was lying and laid next to me for hours.
            “When I started dating Dave four years ago, Gator quickly dumped me and pledged allegiance to Dave. While my feelings were a little hurt, I took it as a sign that Dave was a good guy and it proved to be true. Gator became Dave’s dog just as much as he was mine.
            “They enjoyed many quality naps together and during Gator’s twilight years, Dave would often put all of the other dogs in the backyard and keep Gator inside to ply him with extra treats and solo attention.
            “As the double digit years progressed, Gator’s escape attempts tapered off. He liked snagging a warm spot in front of the fire place or a cool spot in front of the AC box unit – depending on the season.
            “He was a good friend to his Jack Russell/Beagle/Bird Dog sidekick, Lady Bird Johnson, and tolerated the other dogs who we’ve taken in over the years. He was gentle with the puppies and ambivalent when it came to the older dogs. He was passionate about eating and you could always tell that mealtime was drawing near as Gator’s panting grew louder and louder.
            “The spark never went out from his eyes and whenever he saw the nail clippers come out, his Houdini instincts still kicked in. He was kind, patient, observant and quite clever.  I’ve never had a happier dog. He was magic indeed.”
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Comments

[Rawlins Gilliland]

You couldn't find an easier going hound than Gator or a better friend to fur-bearing babies than Cari. her heart is as big as Gator... She lost a dear fried...and a friend-dog who shows yet again the virtue reward of adopting older dogs. They bring so much to the table....wisdom & a buffet of love.