# 243: Best Girl

The story of my best girl, Gretapie.

Kate McDermott

Jul 21, 2024

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I want to thank ALL of you for your kind words, comments, texts, and emails in these days since Gretapie passed away last week. Some have asked how she and I met. It’s a beautiful story that begins with Lady—my pup before Gretapie.

Best Girl

In the mid 90s I lived in a cabin on the side of a small mountain about ten miles west of Pie Cottage. The Tree House is what I called it and in Home Cooking with Kate McDermott I wrote about the intense education I received when living in a house that challenged me almost daily with weather, wildlife and repairs on the ten very remote acres it sat on.

Duncan, who was just about ten years old at the time, invited his best friend, Cody, over for the afternoon. Cody’s dad brought him up the mountain and we chatted a bit about how I was doing. He knew the place was way more than I could manage as I had neither tools or skills, plus it was scary living up there with just Duncan and me. Before he left Michael said, Kate, what you need up here is a dog. Without hesitation I answered,Yes, I do.

Michael left and I went back in to the house listening to happy voices and laughter from the boys who were now in the hot tub that perched on the corner of the deck. A little later, when I walked outside to check on them again, there was a little black and tan dog walking ever so slowly down the steps onto the deck. She walked up to me, burrowed her head into my knees and looked up at me. I was a goner. This little one needed me and I needed her. We named her Lady.

When Lady arrived she was a mess—so emaciated that that she could fit through the cat door. The next week I took her to our vet to be checked out. Almost full grown, he said, but the normal weight for a dog of her age and size should have been about thirty-four pounds and Lady was only nineteen pounds.

She settled in easily. Each day I looked in the Lost & Found section of the newspaper for someone who might be looking for her. After five days I saw an ad that fit the bill. I called the number given and, after hearing the description of her by temperament, knew this was the dog he had been looking for. I’ve got your dog, I said. He had found her wandering around the week before at the local airport looking like she’d been lost for some time. He brought her to his home just across the valley from us and already had incurred vet bills for her, too.

We made three attempts to meet up so I could get her back to him—the first two times he had to cancel and the third time I couldn’t make the date and time. Having had a lot of loss lives in our lives at that time, I’m not sure if either Duncan or I could handle more so I asked if there was any way that I could buy her from him. There was a long pause followed by, Well, let me think about that and get back to you tomorrow.

Tomorrow was a long wait. When he called back he said, You can’t buy her from me. I tried hard not to let him hear the quiver in my voice. Then he followed by quietly saying, but, I’ll give her to you. She’s found a good home with you. Upon hearing those words now I really started to cry.

Lady and I had sixteen wonderful years together. We moved from The Tree House to a friend’s ten acre blueberry U-Pick farm, back to a cabin I lived in when I gave birth to my son on a snowy winter night, finally ending up at the 1922 cottage where I live now. Everyone whom she met fell in love with her even up to her last day. Exactly one month before I was to leave to teach in France and England, she passed away at sixteen and a half.

One year to the day of her passing when teaching a pie workshop I shared her story with the pie campers who had come to make pie with me from all over the country. It was a great session and after Annie and Michael, who had traveled from Chicago, told me that they wanted to find me my next dog. Michael is a dog whisperer who trains service animals for people with special needs and Annie finds rescue dogs and re-homes them. You need a really fine companion animal and we commit to finding that dog for you. We stayed in touch.

Two months later at a holiday gathering, I was sitting at a table with friends when one asked, I’m going to see some German Shepherd puppies tomorrow, Kate. Would you like to come?

German Shepherd puppies? I would love to come!

Just as I said those words, my phone went «ding ding» and when I looked down to the phone screen, I saw a text and photo from Annie.

We’ve got your dog.

A happy girl who loved to play is how the rescue shelter described her. Gretapie had been bouncing around from rescue to rescue and Annie immediately had a feeling that this was the dog for me. She brought her to their family home to join the other dogs Michael was training. A few months later they said she was ready to come home with me but I wondered just how to do that.

Do I fly from Seattle and then drive her home in a rental car?

She’ll fly with you.

In baggage?

She’ll be in the cabin.

How will that work?

We’ll loan you a service vest and she will fly as a service dog.

They said that they would not turn her over to me unless they were one-hundred percent sure she could walk through security on her own, tuck herself under the seat in front of me, and make the trip home to Pie Cottage. I trusted them and turned it all over to the universe. Somehow this would work.

The big day arrived and I boarded the non-stop from Seattle to Chicago arriving late in the afternoon. Annie and Michael were already there hovering in their car waiting for me. I hopped in and off we went. When we got to the house, Michael asked me to sit down on the kitchen floor while he brought GP up on her leash. I couldn't wait to to meet her and will always remember that love-at-first-sight moment for both of us. She climbed right up into my lap giving me the sweetest puppy kisses ever. Over the course of the next two days we were literally tethered together with a leash that went around my waist. Everywhere I went she was by my side. Michael and Annie said that this would be the best way for her to totally attach to me... and me to her. Eating, sleeping, potty breaks, brushing my teeth…and hers…chatting in the kitchen with Annie. I had once again become We.

The next day I learned GP’s basic commands; sit, down, stay, come. We went to a shopping center, slipped on the service vest and walked in to stores. With her leash in my hand, she walked when I walked, stopped when I stopped, and sat down next to me and waited patiently when standing. Never in my life had I had a dog like this. They showed me how to get in and out of cars, too—a version of which I would need to know when I would fly home with her at my feet.

On the day I flew home, Michael told me, if you are chill, she will be chill; if you are nervous, she will be nervous. They dropped me off at the airport mid-afternoon and, taking a deep breath and remembering his words, we walked through the doors now as a bonded pair. She went through security as if she did it everyday of her life. When we got to our waiting area she lay her head down on my foot. We boarded the flight early and walked to our row just behind first class. I put my left leg in to the row first, she walked to the window seat and curled herself under the seat in front of me. Keep chill, I kept thinking. She settled easily and even slept through the take off. She was so quiet that fifteen minutes in to the flight our row-mate looked over surprised to see that I had a dog with me. He remarked on how well-behaved she was. I agreed and smiled. She got up several times in the flight to turn herself around, each time settling easily back under the seat. She even slept through the landing! We de-boarded, found the pet relief area outside the terminal and I got her some water while we waited for a dear friend to pick us up. When she arrived, GP climbed into the car and again curled up at my feet. Then a quick ten minute drive to get my car where I left it parked at my friends’ house. I walked her again, got us into my car and drove the two plus hours to Pie Cottage, GP’s new home.

The next morning after breakfast, she found her sunny spot by the front door.

Gretapie in her morning sunny spot at Pie Cottage.

She and Fez became great friends quickly.

Pie Cottage pals, Greta and Fez snoozing.

Gretapie was a blessing each day. She would plop her head down on the side of the bed each morning, licking my hand and wagging her tail with big I-love-you wags. She had the softest ears and always brought a smile to my face and joy to my day.

Earlier this year, GP was diagnosed with a sarcoma that popped up overnight on her side. It was able to be removed but I was warned that another might appear. Last month a second one on the right elbow of her front leg showed up. If she had been younger our vet said she would amputate but at the age of twelve it was not a possibility. I asked how long we had. Not long were words I didn’t want to hear.

As the days and weeks passed the sarcoma grew larger and she licked at it a lot. On Monday night last she paced around the house all night long, settling for a few seconds before getting up only to pace again. She couldn’t get comfortable. It was no different in the morning. The sarcoma had been painful but now it was affecting her every moment. I didn’t want my girl to suffer so I called Dr Pat who said she would come over after her last appointment of the day. Then GP and I had a wonderful last day together.

We went to her favorite beach out by the mouth of the Elwah River, visited some of her favorite people in town all of whom gave her treats, came home for lunch and a little nap, had more treats, took our last bluff walk together followed by a last dinner. Cindy, Paul, and Lance, all best friends to GP and me, arrived as did Duncan and his dog Kira who I’m pretty sure kept GP young for the last few years of her life. Then we settled in to wait for Dr Pat.

After, we had a small wake, toasting her with whiskey and telling GP stories.

Every day with GP was a gift. Now that she is gone, I miss her wagging tail and bright and happy smile, our walks together on the bluff, her love of cleaning the floor of pie dough scraps that fall during workshops. But most of all I miss the constant companionship of this truly beautiful and gentle soul.

That night, It felt strange to walk the bluff without her.