Olive

Today we usually have Celebrity Gossip Friday but today I want to dedicate this post to our dearly beloved canine friend Olive who was the much loved pet of the Gipes. Olive had a great life and passed away recently. Her mom Jamie wrote a wonderful eulogy.

Olive wasn’t actually a dog. She only looked like one.
She trained her masters early on to believe they were training
her well past the puppy stage, she maintained a strict regimen of
two meals daily. The morning meal was expected the minute
Mrs. Master stepped into her slippers. Of course, some mornings
arrived earlier for Olive than they did for the Masters, and she
diligently climbed the fourteen steps to Mrs. Master and her
slippers, using her rubbery black nose as a bumper to push open
the bedroom door. On the rare occasions when the Masters
didn’t notice the sound produced by sixteen toenails repeating
on a wood floor, she situated her rump and thick vigorously
wagging tail between the aluminum mini-blinds and something
not normally loud—an empty paper sack for instance. Mrs.
Master, startled awake, moseyed sleepily downstairs, Olive at
her heels, convinced it was her idea to get up early on those
particular mornings Olive’s morning pills were given fancy names like filet mignon,
beluga caviar, foie gras, and wild truffles from Italy. Mrs.
Master tossed one after the next into the air, calling each by
name. Olive enthusiastically caught the pills; letting Mrs. Master
go on thinking that she thought they really were those fancy
things Mrs. Master called them Olive’s evening meal was served promptly at 5:30pm, until it was changed to 4:30, and then 3:30, slowly edging closer to
2:30. When asked, Mrs. Master had no explanation for the
changes, except to say that Olive was very persuasive indeed
When she wasn’t curled up in her comfy brown leather easy
chair watching her lady master write her book, she was in the
kitchen helping Mrs. Master, who was nothing if not careless,
dropping grapes and snippets of carrots, green beans, and
broccoli, which Olive dutifully picked up—unless it was celery
To Mrs. Master she was completely devoted—all day long.
But when it came time for bed, it was Mr. Master who was king.
Recognizing his getting-ready-for-bed noises, Olive greeted him
at the bottom of the stairs. Unbeknownst to Mrs. Master, Mr.
Master treated Olive to a ‘cookie’ every night before he retired.
After that Olive made a sweep of the kitchen floor for such
treasures as almonds and toasted cereal flakes that Mr. Master
left behind.

Almost every day, Olive went swimming. Despite years of effort,
she was unsuccessful in training the Masters not to notice her
drying off on the wool Berber carpet
The older she got the more selective her hearing became. “Are
you wet?” once sent her scurrying for her kennel. “Out!” meant
something. So did, “Come here.” Maybe she’s deaf the Masters
concluded. But when one quietly asked the other, “Did you feed
her?” although two rooms away, in a quasi-coma, she would
appear suddenly, as if by magic.

Olive was in fact often mistaken for being in a coma. Some years
ago, she took to sleeping in the supine position, on her back,
legs up. The Masters found it unnerving when, without moving
any other muscles, her eyes followed them as they passed
Wherever the Masters were at any given moment, so was Olive.
Whether under the table while they ate, between their chairs
while they read or watched a movie, sitting outside by the pool
or chatting in Mrs. Master’s office, Olive was at their feet
These were her peeps. And she had them trained just the way
she liked them. She was in fact still working with the Masters
right up to the very end. She never gave up on them
It takes a lifetime to train these guys, she always said. Olive’s
efforts paid off. The Masters were completely devoted to her and will always be.

I hope when I pass away my mommy will love me and write such a loving eulogy. Olive yo will be sorely missed on this earth by many. Chow for now!