Amazing Grace

Honorable Mention, adults' essays

A.J. Gilman |

12/18/2008 - 12/19/08

Grace comes in the most unlikely places.

It was January 2000, just after the turn of the millennium. I walked along the dry Santa Fe riverbed with my friend Susan and ever-faithful dog Emma. Together, we strolled enjoying the sun-filled January morning.

A burst of gold flashed in my peripheral vision. Was that a dog? Indeed. A stray dog took flight from across the riverbed, a sight I'd seen many times before. I ran a block home to gather some food. Returning with a large serving of chow, the dog had vanished.

For the many strays who have crossed my path over the years, I could give them just one meal. Before the last bite was swallowed, they were quickly on their pathless way. Still I wanted to believe that one meal helped that one creature through that one moment. So I continued my quiet crusade to feed the homeless four-legged spirits of the world, with a bag of dog food always in my trunk.

We dumped the food upon a flat rock across the river and continued our walk. A small piece of my heart going out to the beautiful animal in distress that chilly winter day.

As it decidedly does, the sun arose the next morning, and we were out for our daily ritual once again. Emmadog was the main attraction of this (and most every) walk. I don't recall if I looked for the elusive golden dog or even expected her to be there.

Many lessons have come from the sight that morning. We reached the riverbed, and up I looked to see the golden dog curled up on a landing midst the winter bare trees. That was our true first connection. From yards away, our eyes connected — forever to be in gaze of one another.

There are so many beautiful nuances to Gracie's story, which includes an entire neighborhood of dog-walkers over-pouring with love, and a kind and caring dog-patrol officer who was willing to take a chance. From that first day on, she claimed that spot on the bank of the Santa Fe River bed just opposite La Familia Health Clinic. It soon became "Gracie's Landing" and that scared, golden dog began to blossom ... a result of the love of many.

We're not sure just how many meals a day she was served those first few weeks, since I know I scrambled eggs and chicken and free-flowing Milk Bones were among the two daily meals I brought. Unlike many stray dogs, Gracie did not wander. She claimed this beautiful spot as her place of recovery.

It took three weeks before she would stay close by when I brought the food and another three weeks before she would let me get close to her. That's when dog patrol showed up. A call came in from neighbors who feared a homeless person may have froze in the culvert below Gracie's Landing. What else would explain this homeless, malnourished, dreadlocked dog who wouldn't stray far from this site?

Now, I've gotten a few dog tickets in my day, and I can't say I've always been a huge fan of Animal Control's leash policy — but, putting that aside, the officer that was dispatched to Gracie's Landing was an absolute angel.

I saw the flashing lights and distinct white truck of Animal Control parked as I carried Gracie's breakfast down that morning. As my mind caught up with what was happening, my pace went from a hurried walk to an all-out sprint. They were here for Grace!

Well, Gracie wouldn't be caught all that easy. Just as I arrived, panting and slightly panicked at the thought of her being put in the "doggy wagon," Grace was disappearing beyond reach into the dry river bed. I then proceeded to cut a deal with the officer. "I want to adopt this dog, but I need more time."

Whoa! What did I just say? I lived in a 400-square-foot adobe, was just getting ready to start a new job, and I did not need another dog in my life. Like I said, sometimes lessons come to us when we're not looking.

The officer agreed to my proposal and handed me his card. If I needed anything else, I was to please give him a call. My heart returned to its normal pace. Gracie was safe.

It was as if Gracie knew the deal. The next three weeks, she joined us for our morning walks, becoming quite enamored with Emma's zest for the little creatures that lived in the rocks. They became hunting buddies and steadfast dog friends. I later learned that she made many dog and human friends during this time, walking with Adria and dog Turtle, Marcelle and dog Shadow, and countless others.

She began to follow us home, just 100 yards from the river and even into our small yard. But when I closed the gate, Gracie's focus shifted immediately to getting the hell out. Enclosure was apparently a very sore subject. I just couldn't bring myself to force her to stay, and so I kept the gate open for her. I vowed to be grateful for her progress and improving health, while holding onto faith that I could keep my end of the bargain to adopt her someday.

That day came just a few weeks later. I was starting a new job this day and left the house for our morning walk extra early, with breakfast in hand for Grace. As I walked down the hill, some commotion came in view. This commotion was in the form of an intact male Rottweiler mix who had taken a liking to Grace.

So, on March 1, 2000, this special dog Grace was officially welcomed into our family. With the love and support and steady help of my landlady and dear friends, Gracie found that this particular enclosure had its advantages. She decided she could call it home.

Two years later, we moved to a beautiful little 10-acre spot near the Ortiz Mountains with my husband. For all of us, the shift to country living had an astounding effect. Grace retired up here on the hill. Lots of romping ground, no leash, no threats and a two new dog friends, 15-year-old Honey and 1-year-old Sally made her retirement complete. This canine foursome loved their Goldmine Road life together.

The large Juniper tree just off our front stoop is aptly named, Gracie's Second Landing, as for the last three years of her life, she spent many hours tucked under this tree, at ease and at peace. She chased rabbits, slept, ate, lounged, fell in love with the new kittens, chased more rabbits, slept, ate and lounged.

She got to experience the spring snow storm of 2005 when 18 inches fell in 24 hours. She loved the snow and romped like a puppy, all of us knowing full well that her hips would be aching by day's end.

On November 21, 2005, Gracie took her last breath, her body finally yielding to the difficulties of her early years despite the refuge of her latter years.

Grace was about eight years old when she first landed on the Santa Fe River in 2000, injured, hungry and scared. I'm delighted to know we were able to play a small part in giving her a safe haven to live out her days. She will live forever in my memory, as the golden flash of hope, perseverance and recovery.

Grace is amazing.