Name: Sarah Guldenschuh
Location: Wewoka, Oklahoma
Date: May 1997
The third alarm was blaring and I was trying without much success to make myself get up, turn it off and start the day. I was lying there, wondering if the world would quit turning if…{yawn} just got {further yawn} …5…more…minnn {ladylike snore} when whomp, whomp WWHHOOMMPPP!!! The pillows underneath my head starting bouncing up and down, taking my poor muzzy head with it. Without even opening my eyes, I threw my hand out and said “Gypsy, just 5 more minutes, please?” Whomp, whomp WWWHHOOOMMMPPP!! Once again, the pillows went bouncy bouncy and my head was going along for the ride. With a heartfelt groan, I muttered, “OK, OK Baby Girl, I’m up, I’m up already!” About the time my feet hit the floor and I started groping for my glasses, my brain engaged and I went…”uuuhhh”. I shoved my glasses up my nose, looked around and counted little furry bodies, all of which were in their usual places. With more than a wee bit of trepidation, I took a deep breath and said “Gypsy, was that you?” In answer, I heard that peculiar, growly/whiney vocalization that was uniquely hers, followed by silence.
Gypsy was a Coyote/Shepherd hybrid (often called Coydogs around here) that came to me under rather unusual circumstances. I worked at the state prison and the land around it was a notorious dumping ground. Periodically, the Powers That Be would order the strays to be rounded up and “taken care of”. Some of the inmates that worked in the maintenance department found her as a barely weaned pup and had her hidden in the furthest outbuilding until they could find someone to adopt her. Unfortunately, they got caught out and were told that the next morning, they would be taking her “to be taken care of”. One of inmates came to me practically hysterical, shamelessly begging me to go out and get her and if nothing else, take her to the local shelter. Before I left for the day, I went out there and took her with me “just until I could find her a good home”. Well, you know what they say about good intentions. That “just until” ended up us being together for 16 years.
Gypsy took it upon herself to be my personal fool-proof alarm clock. If I wasn’t sitting up and putting my glasses on by the time the third alarm was going off, she would stick that long coyote nose of hers under my pillows and would bob her head up and down, making the pillows go bouncy bouncy and since it was either get up or risk a concussion, it was quite effective. None of the other dogs ever did that. For that matter, if I managed to sleep through all the alarms, they were more likely to join me in slumber than not.
She took her duty very seriously in life and apparently, a little inconvenience like physical death wasn’t going to stop her.