How sad, one of Oprah's Golden Retrievers died

[luvwinnie]

http://www.insideedition.com/ourstories/inside_stories/story.aspx?storyid=853

She choked on a ball...horrible.

 

[DisneyAddict_M]

She died to teach her a lesson?

 

[Rock'n Robin]

That is very sad, I still miss my golden who died in 04--but if she is that into her dogs, why does she have a dog walker? And as DisneyAddict said, this "teaches her a lesson"?
I guess you can tell I'm not on the Oprah worship bandwagon. Her reaction sounds incredibly self-centered.
Robin M.

 

[Christine]

I read that story in the latest issue of her "O" magazine and nearly started crying.

I'm not surprised she has a dog walker. She has a lot of dogs and is a very busy woman.

Just the whole story about the dog being a runt and so full of energy just ripped my heart out. I'm a huge dog lover and my dog died last October in a very tragic circumstance--guess that's why it's so raw to me.

 

[Christine]

She died to teach her a lesson?

The full article is in "O" Magazine. The dog didn't die to teach Oprah a lesson, rather Oprah learned a lesson out of the dog's death. She reflected on how the dog lived it's life--always rushing to do something, always active, never stopping. Something along those lines. If you read her entire article, the whole thing makes perfect sense. And, no, I'm not a Oprah worshipper.

 

[mickeyboat]

The teaches her a lesson does sound a little self-centered, but we always look for some "reason" for a tragedy, some way to make something that seems senseless make sense to us. I think Oprah is doing the same.

Denae

 

[Christine]

WHAT I KNOW FOR SURE
Weeks have passed. And the pain has not subsided. Every time I think about it, my heart starts racing and I feel like I just got stabbed in the chest. It's a jolt, still. Gracie's death.

Gracie is the smallest of the golden retrievers photographed with me on O, The Oprah Magazine's January '06 and '07 covers. She had just turned 2 on May 21. I thought we'd grow old together.

She choked to death on a plastic ball she found in the grass (it belonged to Sophie, my 12-year-old cocker spaniel). The goldens were not allowed to play with those clear little balls that light up. I feared they'd chew them, or worse.

The worst happened on May 26. Gracie was out with her dog walker, on a walk I often do myself after their evening meal. On this sunny Saturday, having just returned from a late lunch with friends, I decided to let the caretaker do it—walk all three.

I hugged them all goodbye, leaving a lipstick print on Gracie's furry white forehead, where she loved getting kisses. Twenty minutes later, I got a call: "She's down and isn't breathing."

I ran barefoot out of the house and found the dog walker and one of my security guys pumping her chest. Just as I reached them, the security guy looked up and said, "I'm sorry, ma'am. We tried everything. I'm sorry. She's gone."

Gone??!! I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Yes, I saw it. I saw the caretaker rocking back and forth on the ground, his arms wrapped around himself, crying hysterically. My brain took in the whole scene, but it wasn't tracking properly. The first thing I remember saying is, "It's okay. It'll be okay. Tell me what happened." Through his sobs I heard: "…choked on a ball."

And I knew, this was real. Gracie is gone, Gracie is gone, Gracie is gone kept repeating in my head.

I stood there dazed, stunned, crying—and watched as they placed her in the back of a golf cart, her still-warm body with the lipstick stain on her fur.

But even in my stunned state, I knew this was not what it appeared to be: a freak accident with a clear plastic ball that lit up inside. I don't believe in accidents. I know for sure that everything in life happens to help us live.

So through my tears and stabbing pain and disbelief and wonder and questions about how and why this happened, I leaned over my sweet and wild and curious and mind-of-her-own Gracie, and asked, "Dear Gracie, what were you here to teach me that only your death could show me?" And this is the answer: This lovely little runt whom I'd brought home sick—on his first visit with her, the vet told me to return her and get my money back—did more living in two years than most dogs do in 12. She never stopped moving. Was energy in motion. Chasing squirrels, hop-leaping through the pond like a rabbit. Finding anything she could to play with, chew, run with. Dashing, frolicking. Speeding across the lawn as though she were in a rush for life. I was always saying, "Gracie, slow down." She gulped her food. Gulped treats. Would let you hug her for a second, then race off to—where? She was the only dog I was always looking for. Going out on the porch calling, "Graaaacie! Gracie, come!"

The day after she died, I went to the spot where she took her last breath and called again, "Graaaacie! Graaaacie!" I was hoping security wouldn't hear me and think I needed medical—or psychological—attention. Of course I knew this time she wouldn't come running through the brush. Out of the pond. Shaking her wet fur and racing to my arms with a smile. She was always, always smiling.

Not until I knew there'd be no response did I realize how much pleasure I had taken in calling for her. So I called and cried. Called and cried. "Graaaacie!" Tears of sadness for the shocking loss. Tears of joy for the pure happiness she'd given me for nearly two years. I have never seen a being, human or animal, always so full of joy. This dog lived every moment as though it were her last.

Her life was a gift to me. Her death, a greater one.

Ten days before she died, I was getting a yearly physical, and to lower my blood pressure I'd think of Gracie's smiling face.

Just days before the "freak accident," the head of my company came into my office to have a serious talk about "taking some things off your schedule—you're doing too much." Maya Angelou called me to say the same thing. "You're doing too much. Don't make me come to Chicago," she chided. "I want you to slow down."

I'd broken a cardinal rule: The whole month of May I'd had no day off, dashing from one event to the next. But though I appreciated everyone's concern, I still had to finish the season. Wrap up the year's shows. Have foundation meetings. Meet with auditors. Review plans for a new building, and on and on. So many people on my list. I literally forgot to put myself on the list for a follow-up checkup.

When the doctor's office called, I confessed. I hadn't heeded what I know for sure. I said, "Doctor, I'm sorry. I had so many meetings with different people, I forgot to put myself on the list."

The next day, Gracie died.

Slow down, you're moving too fast. I got the message.

Thank you for being my saving Gracie. I now know for sure angels come in all forms.

 

[milkabum]

Oh poor baby, and she was quite a young dog too.

 

[luvwinnie]

Ok, that article really made me cry.

 

[Cool-Beans]

The dog died to teach her a message. Yes, Oprah, the whole universe (and God) exist and work solely for your benefit. It wasn't a freak accident, it was God stepping in to tell you to take a day off. He doesn't have any more pressing issues.

She doesn't need psych help, she needs to visit a doc who can give her a little shot of reality.

 

[Am_I_There_Yet]

Her goldens are some of the prettiest I've ever seen. I've always enjoyed the photos of them.

Chloe once inhaled a jumbo-size Carmex lid, but luckily it went down her throat. We had to have it surgically removed.

How sad that her Golden died, doing what Goldens love best - having balls in their mouths. I don't care if it's Oprah or not. Whatever the circumstances, it's sad.

 

[Trish Bessette]

What a sad, sad article. As an owner of a 1 year old Golden my heart breaks. Anyone who has owned a Golden knows exactly what Oprah has written about dear Gracie.

 

[tiff211]

That's sad! I am not a dog lover, quite the opposite in fact so I can't relate in a "that's my furbaby" sense, but it is such a sad story. Poor Gracie. I do get what Oprah is saying. There is a lesson in everything, even death.

 

[minnieandme]

That article was touching

 

[TerriP]

The dog died to teach her a message. Yes, Oprah, the whole universe (and God) exist and work solely for your benefit. It wasn't a freak accident, it was God stepping in to tell you to take a day off. He doesn't have any more pressing issues.

She doesn't need psych help, she needs to visit a doc who can give her a little shot of reality.

Forgive me for singling out your response, CB ~ this response is not just in reference to you personally, it's more to train of thought your post represented.

I just don't understand this way of thinking. Just like millions of other people, when Oprah lost someone she loved, she tried to find something deeper to it. "It's just a freak accident" is a dis-service to the LIFE that was lost. I don't want my loved ones death to be thought of as nothing more than a "freak accident". Maybe, if I can find something MORE, something deeper, I can help myself deal with this loss.

Oprah can't undo what happened, but she took that loss and used it to focus herself on a more positive path...to learn from Gracie's life and not just say "well, it was a freak accident...move on". In doing so, she honored Gracie's life. And, in sharing what happend with her readers and how she decided to learn from Gracie's life and death, she brought even more meaning to Gracie's life.

I am not an Oprah lover (however I do confess to being a complete dog lover with three of my own), but I completely understand where she is coming from. To say she thinks her dog died only to teach her some cosmic lesson is just cruel. She is finding meaning in this death and using it to effect positive change in her life (and maybe others). How anyone can turn that into "another reason to hate Oprah" is really just beyond me.

 

[daisax]

While she's lining up lessons learned, I hope that one of them is that simply not "allowing" one dog to play with another's toys is not enough. There shouldn't be ANY toys in the house small enough for the biggest dogs to choke on.

Easy rule of thumb -- if a dog can hold it in its mouth without it poking out either side or the front, it's too small and can cause choking.

A friend's lab choked to death on a tennis ball -- grabbed it up off the ground in glee as she'd done thousands of times before, and it went straight down with such force they couldn't get it back out again, and she died in their arms. It's not a rare way to die, either. They make larger than normal "tennis" balls for dogs.

 

[Cool-Beans]

Forgive me for singling out your response, CB ~ this response is not just in reference to you personally, it's more to train of thought your post represented.

I just don't understand this way of thinking. Just like millions of other people, when Oprah lost someone she loved, she tried to find something deeper to it. "It's just a freak accident" is a dis-service to the LIFE that was lost. I don't want my loved ones death to be thought of as nothing more than a "freak accident". Maybe, if I can find something MORE, something deeper, I can help myself deal with this loss.

Oprah can't undo what happened, but she took that loss and used it to focus herself on a more positive path...to learn from Gracie's life and not just say "well, it was a freak accident...move on". In doing so, she honored Gracie's life. And, in sharing what happend with her readers and how she decided to learn from Gracie's life and death, she brought even more meaning to Gracie's life.

I am not an Oprah lover (however I do confess to being a complete dog lover with three of my own), but I completely understand where she is coming from. To say she thinks her dog died only to teach her some cosmic lesson is just cruel. She is finding meaning in this death and using it to effect positive change in her life (and maybe others). How anyone can turn that into "another reason to hate Oprah" is really just beyond me.

1. You can pick on me any time. I won't take it personally.

2. I don't look for reasons to hate Oprah. I was a huge Oprah fan for many, many years. But she has flipped her lid with all her self-important crap. She's almost the leader of a cult. It's creepy that people put her on a higher level than others and creepier still that she allows it.

3. I didn't say she thinks her dog died to send her a message. She did.

Just days before the "freak accident," the head of my company came into my office to have a serious talk about "taking some things off your schedule—you're doing too much." Maya Angelou called me to say the same thing. "You're doing too much. Don't make me come to Chicago," she chided. "I want you to slow down."

I'd broken a cardinal rule: The whole month of May I'd had no day off, dashing from one event to the next. But though I appreciated everyone's concern, I still had to finish the season. Wrap up the year's shows. Have foundation meetings. Meet with auditors. Review plans for a new building, and on and on. So many people on my list. I literally forgot to put myself on the list for a follow-up checkup.

When the doctor's office called, I confessed. I hadn't heeded what I know for sure. I said, "Doctor, I'm sorry. I had so many meetings with different people, I forgot to put myself on the list."

The next day, Gracie died.

Slow down, you're moving too fast. I got the message.

If people want to make more out of death than there is by finding something else in it, that's fine with me. Whatever gets you through the night.

But a dog died to send her the message that she needed to take some time off at work? That's self-centered. And it wasn't just any death. The dog had to suffer. What? God or the universe couldn't find any other way to send Oprah her message?

She is waaay too full of herself. The dog didn't suffocate so that Oprah would remember to put herself on a list. That's my opinion on that. You may see it differently, more power to you.

 

[mamamary]

Poor Gracie

 

[Sherri]

I read that and wanted to cry. I think its remarkable the bond between people and their animals. I know that I feel a strong bond with my current animals and still mourn the loss of every animal I ever had that has passed on. They touch us in a way that is no other relationship that we have. There is such an innocence about pets.

 

[emmabelle]

I thought the article was awesome. RIP Gracie......