Gilbert, Dog of Dogs

Thank you God for Gilbert. He’s 6 years old today. I remember bringing this little bit larger than my hand fluff ball home from the US.  That’s right he’s an American citizen.  Now he’s Canadian.  He’s run and jumped and rolled in dead fish and cow poo.  He goes with me everywhere.  I loved those first days he rode on my motorcycle with me in a pouch I wore over my shoulder. Then he graduated to his own box on the back seat. That’s how we rode together to Sturges North Motorcycle Rally where he sat under my chair listening to Burton Cummings singing all those great songs of Canada.
He sailed with me too. Never bothered by the boat heeling over or waves smashing across the deck, he was there with me.  He did like the little dinghy rides ashore though.  Lifting his leg and marking his territory like he was planting a flag on the moon.  Never a fighter always a lover, he’d bark at any one who wasn’t friendly and alert us all to possible danger.  Well, he did growl back and stand his turf against that big pitfall I pulled off the little guy one day. I picked that big dog off my little guy and threw him at his surreptitiously gloating master.  Gilbert knew I had his back. That guys smirk was a thing of the past.
But the best thing is to see this brilliant little dog find a grouse in the woods.  When the guys and I have been hunting it’s only because of him we get all the birds we shoot. Then he flushes them too. He even began retrieving them last year despite their being bigger than his head.  A regular little trooper. A great part of the hunting teams.  Not much help with moose and bear but still a great companion.  
Every day he’s excited in the morning.  Without him I’d forget it’s a NEW DAY!!  HOORAY! It’s a new day. His enthusiasm for almost everything is infectious.  The fact is he’s my back up alarm clock. If I don’t wake up he’s there to lick my face and pounce up and down on my chest.  It’s impossible to stay in bed with him snuggling and kissing me.
Twice a day and more he takes me for long walks.  Lots of times I’m just wandering around in nature enjoying the great Canadian outdoors because I know he does.  What a great guy to take camping.
He surely loves his friends. First and foremost he just loves Laura. She cared for him first when I had to be away, spoiling him with treats and back rubs.  All my friends have bought him toys.  He’s the richest toy dog I know. And little hand knit sweaters and jackets.  What a handsome guy.  His blue and green Canucks hockey sweater gets him cheers from passing cars as we walk down the street.
But mostly he’s a therapy dog.  Everyday he comes to work with me and brightens the day of my depressed patient.  One little old man had withdrawn so far that humans couldn’t reach him but month after month Gilbert jumped on his lap and licked his ears till one day he talked.  He’s brought smiles to those who no one knew they’d ever remember.  My dad called him “Monkey Dog”.  He’s such a squirmy happy little guy.
We fly WestJet , in the main cabin,  to visit the family.  He runs for days with his cousin cockapoo, Eva, on my brother’s property on Haybay  near Napanee.
When I took him to St. James Church, I asked Father Mark if he was welcome.  Father Mark said, ‘we love dogs here. Of course..  You, though, we’ll accept on his recommendation.”  We laughed. Eventually the Bishop blessed Gilbert.
Today it’s Gilbert’s birthday.  6 years old and I hope another dozen more.   Thanks for being there for me, pup.  I love you