Around 2:30 PM, via Facebook, we put the word out:
Avery Daisy Chancey Glancye Drew Dubinski entered Canine Immortality this afternoon, July 10th, 2019, at 1:15 PM.
Glancye came into our lives almost exactly seven years before she departed. Like many other rescue-dog households, we marked this day as a holiday, with all appropriate fanfair. Somewhere among our souvenirs there is a champagne cork, inscribed in Sharpie, “Welcome Glancye! 6-30-2012.”
Glancye was named after Glancye Walls Gray, whose funeral I preached in 2004. And that dear woman was named after an old family friend, whose name was a lesser-known variation on the Irish surname Clancy. When her parents asked for permission to name their daughter after Glancy, who was a male, he was delighted, but suggested that they add an “e” to the name. He probably was expecting the named to be rendered “Glancey,” but the Walls clan was nothing if not unpredictable.
Glancye was a mix of Basset hound and Bluetick coonhound, whose photo we spied on the website for SNAP, Huntsville’s Spay and Neuter Action Program. She was looking at the camera, smiling, and it was pretty much doggie love at first sight.
We already had plenty of animals. There was the tuxedo cat, Nesbitt, the orange tabby, Fantobol, and a Weimaraner mix, Lattimore.
We got the idea for a new dog after we temporarily housed our neighbors’ cat, Mr. Cat. He showed up on their porch one day, and their mutually easy-going lifestyles complemented one another well.
The couple soon moved, leaving Mr. Cat with us, as we were accustomed to his ways. He was a ramblin’ guy, sojourning for blocks — maybe miles — in all directions. Sometimes we went for days without seeing him.
One day, as he was strolling toward our pad after a particularly lengthy absence, we saw he was wearing a brand-new collar and tag. Some doctors up the hill had claimed him and named him Oliver. We decided not to contest the issue, and Mr. Cat was indoors-only at the doctors’ place from then on.
A few nights later, the following exchange took place:
Fantobol (standing on my chest): Hey Chief. You awake?
Me: Nah. Just lying here thinking.
Fantobol: About Mr. Cat?
Me: Yeah. I’m glad he got a swell home and all, but still.
Fantobol: Yeah. He sure classed up the joint. So what are you gonna do about his spot on the roster?
Me: I dunno. Bound to be another cat out there someplace.
Fantobol: Well. Okay, you didn’t hear this from me, y’unnerstand, but maybe we should start looking at dogs.
Fantobol: Well, me and Nesbitt pretty much got the cat angle covered. We’re never gonna top Mr. Cat, class-wise. See where I’m going with this?
Me: I guess we can run it up the flagpole.
Fantobol: I’ll salute. (At this point Fantobol’s Ambien kicked in, and he dozed off.)
Yes, we decided, a new dog would create some excitement for the household in general and Lattimore in particular.
Glancye did not disappoint. Within moments of her arrival, she was running up and down the stairs, sniffing everything and joining my fabulous bride, DebbieMiller® on her bed, where she was convalescing from elbow surgery.
Fantobol hopped onto the bed with the ladies and settled in between them as Deb said to Glancye, “Your life has changed forever.”
Little did we know.
To be continued …