This is Captain, a Bernese mountain dog, but he’s the spitting image of Gretel, our beloved companion from years ago. She arrived as a tiny puppy, too small to walk down the stairs by herself without being carried. It wasn’t long, however, before she grew to full size and took her rightful place as the kindest and sweetest dog we ever had.
We lived in a house up Emigration Canyon on the outskirts of Salt Lake City, Utah, which meant that we spent most of the winter buried in snow. That was just perfect for Gretel – she would run outside and flop down in the nearest snow bank, which must have provided suitable air conditioning for her luxurious coat. I’m not quite sure how she survived the hot summers, but she never seemed to mind.
The canyon back then was the perfect place to have a dog, because it was virtually uninhabited. We would take the dogs for a walk every morning and let them roam free. As real estate developers became more interested in the landscape, dogs had to be on leashes to avoid wandering into people’s yards. But my memories of Gretel were all from the pre-leash era, when she would go bounding out the door at the mention of the word “walk” and go wherever the wind took her.
Gretel was a purebred and a very expensive dog, but she was given to us in exchange for flute lessons from my mother. That always seemed appropriate - she taught us lessons of kindness and good humor all the days of her life.
We still miss you, Gretel.
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