Gypsy, Queen of the Universe

An old Vito with a very young Gypsy

We got Gypsy when she was about a year old from German Shepherd Rescue of Maryland.  Her name was Jag at the time.  Before coming into the rescue and being adopted, she had spent the first year or so of her life sharing an outdoor pen with a rottweiler and she wasn't particularly oriented towards humans.  She ruled around here for the next 12 years or so. 

I always referred to her as the queen bitch, a crown and title that she claimed and wore proudly.  She had the German work ethic and pretty much wrote her own job description.  She saw a need for a security system and crowd control around here and she stepped up to the job and filled it well for many years.  She had at least three distinct alarm signals: one for strange people; another for general, non-specific alerts; and a very distinctive one for "dogs out of place."  Gypsy understood fostering and knew that the outdoor dogs weren't really part of her pack, but they belonged here in their proper place in the kennels.  The foster dogs sometimes escape from their kennels, but they never escaped Gypsy's notice and she would summon me with the most insistent and annoying sound that she could produce, in the sure and certain knowledge that I would come to deal with it in order to shut her up.  Gypsy always let me know when Molly jumped the fence out of the dog yard.
 

Gypsy was a classic beauty with a luxurious coat. 
She was only 1 of 6 dogs in our house, but probably accounted for 80% of the dog hair.

Gypsy had no use for other female dogs in her pack and would not tolerate them, period.  Emmylou and Molly were confined upstairs, while Gypsy ruled the roost from the ground floor.  The other girls would not challenge her and took great care to avoid her.  Molly learned to look out the windows to be sure that Gypsy was outside before she would go downstairs.  Even in her final months when she had no power in the rear end, if Gypsy encountered Molly she would latch onto her with a death grip of her jaws that I would have to pry apart.

Gypsy was always "on", alert, intent, large and in charge.

She suffered from what I presume was degenerative myelopathy, a progressive neurological disease that eventually left her unable to stand.  Fortunately, it's not painful, but the arthritis she had in her front leg joints surely was.  Given her age, she may well have had cancer as well, but she was holding her own really well, even with the decreased mobility until lately.  I'm just glad that she held on until I could get her home and take her to the vet myself so I could hold her head and kiss her as she passed on.  She was a formidable dog who took her work seriously, but she was also a daddy's girl and was very bonded to me, as I was to her. 

Although she assumed the role of Queen on her own due to the dearth of female power in our home, I have posthumanously awarded her the crown for her collar acquired on our recent trip to London.  I think I've said before that my own concept of any diety that may exist would most likely take the form of a female German Shepherd Dog, because I can't imagine anything else being in charge.


Gypsy was a very important part of the operation of our household and rescue efforts.  She will be sorely missed, but she is now Queen of the Universe.  All I can say is that the rest of the Universe had better fall in line.