go gently Gladdich
Bruichladdich Blu of the Royal Club
Our blue barking boy is gone...
Go gently grey Gladdich the great, we'll meet again...
He loved to be in de back garden. Weather or wind did not bother him, in fact we had to call him inside when it started to rain, mainly for our inconvenience of having a wet dog in the house, rather than his dislike of the weather. In time he came to the back door by himself to tell us he should come in because of the rain.
The grass was his favorite playground, and it was there that he wrestled with Chimay or with the pups.
For him I created pathways all through the garden, or better said Gladdich created the pathways and I followed with the stepping stones. Chimay would never walk in between the plants, but Gladdich had to examine every inch of "his" grounds.
Every day Gladdich would make us laugh with his cheerful, happy look, his wagging tail and his probing gentle eye that always seemed to ask "what fun is going to happen today?"
When I had an anxiety attack, it was Gladdich who could calm me down as no other dog ever could. That was his job and he performed his task marvelously. When I panicked while walking, he would focus on me and, despite the fact that he did not like other dogs or children to come close to him, he forgot his fear in order to help with mine.
For Frank he was his "mini Tino", Frank always had a soft spot for the blue Mastino Napoletano, hence the nickname.
Our hearts are sad and yet, we are very thankful and mindful of the wonderful gifts and sheer love that we both received from, and gave to Gladdich.
Go gently Gladdich, be freed of pain...
we miss you!
Lelystad, September 13th, 2009
Something's gotten hold of my heart
Keeping my soul and my senses apart
Something's invaded my night
Painting my sleep with a colour so bright
Changing the grey, changing the blue
Scarlet for me, scarlet for you
(from the song "Something's gotten hold of my heart", Marc Almond)
- our smooth Chow Chows and other dogs from present and past
this page was created at
September 13th, 2009
© Anita Meulstee