Where to begin about this dog? Well, as unoriginal as it might be, let’s start at the beginning.
In May of 2013, my parents, Nate and Susan, got a rambunctious chocolate lab puppy and named him Griz. A couple of weeks later, after graduation, I got on a one-way flight to San Francisco for my new job. I joked that Griz was my replacement. Over the first couple of years, I heard quite a few gripes about Griz (mainly from my mom). He would constantly dig in the backyard, jump on people, and when puberty hit, he HUMPED. Oh boy, did he hump. Bend down to tie your shoe? There was Griz. Gardening your flower beds? There was Griz.
You see, my dad had read that you should wait as long as you can to neuter your dog so they can develop fully. But eventually, Mom gave Pops an ultimatum: me or the dog! And later that week, he had his cojones removed. He was two years old. Griz grew up to be a tall, 100lb+ dog.
In 2016, my dad got a job offer in Wyoming, and the family moved north to a small town there. My younger sister, Rachel, who had started a family of her own, was going to move into my parents’ house. The only catch? Griz came with the house. Unfortunately, the Torrington rental property didn’t allow pets, so my parents couldn’t bring Griz.
This is probably a good time to introduce an important character in the Griz story—my brother Daniel. It’s probably safe to say he was Griz’s best friend. Daniel had just started college when my parents moved north, but he came back every weekend he could to hang out with Griz. And in the summers, he lived there, and he and Griz shared a twin bed. And remember, he was 100+ pounds at this point. Daniel would take him on adventures in a nearby canyon, where he got “slapped” by a porcupine, maybe killed a baby rabbit or two (so sorry), and perfected his “parkour” skills.
After a couple of years there, Griz developed a really bad infection in his tail. Daniel took him to the vet, and they said half of his tail would need to be removed. This came with a pretty hefty price tag. Griz had also always struggled with itchy skin and severe ear infections, which meant he also smelled pretty bad. There was a family discussion about whether to put him down. Daniel fought for Griz, saying he still had so much life left in him. He paid for the procedure himself with the money he had saved up from his campus job. And that’s how Daniel saved Griz’s life.
So why am I the one writing this tribute, you might ask? Well, in December of 2019, I moved back to Denver. And I brought along my (now) husband, David. We were excited to start a new chapter together and explore a different city. Then came COVID! And what did people do during COVID? Get a dog. Our plan was to adopt one from a shelter, but the universe had other plans.
You see, my sister had reached out to the family, saying she was going to surrender Griz to a shelter. Daniel was still in college and couldn’t take him, and my parents were still up north. And that’s when David and I adopted him. Our original plan was to rehabilitate him and then get him adopted, but I think that plan lasted less than 24 hours. He quickly became our dog.
From then on, we rarely went anywhere without him. He was at our wedding and joined us on our honeymoon, where we hiked every day for a week in Crested Butte. He’s run from waves in the Atlantic Ocean, met his first turtle on the Florida coast, and never met a lake or river he didn’t jump into.
And now, five years later and just shy of his 12th birthday, he crossed the Rainbow Bridge in the comfort of our home alongside David, Daniel, and myself. As painful as saying goodbye was, it couldn’t have been a better experience, and we are so grateful to Caring Pathways for their help.
This morning, I picked Griz up and brought him home. We had him cremated with his favorite bunny toy. This summer, we will spread his ashes at the dispersed campground he’s gone to with my family every summer since he was a wee pup.
We miss ya, Grizzly. I hope there’s an endless amount of rabbits up there.
