Thatcher the Gallery Dog

Our beloved six-year-old gallery dog, Thatcher, died in a tragic manner in June after going missing on a hike with his dog walker. It will take us a long time to fully process the complexities of what happened during the 24-hour search and how this unimaginable experience ended, but we wanted to share a special gallery tribute for our sweet boy.

I’ve never known life at The Willard Gallery without Thatcher. He’d been in our family for less than a year when we started this business. We joked that he was my co-worker because he was by my side for so much of the day. He accompanied me to UPS to ship paintings, was underfoot for every thank you note or newsletter I wrote, and was always in the same room when I was photographing art for the website. I made him sit for photos alongside stacks of boxes waiting to be shipped, with tote bags placed around his neck, in front of favorite paintings, and outside our cottage gallery, framed just so, in every season. A running joke between us was how many paintings he helped sell simply by befriending people in our neighborhood who then visited the gallery and ended up purchasing art. He was the star of our holiday cards, featured in the title image of a magazine profile, and even inspired a couple of paintings by gallery artists.

Thatcher was the physical embodiment of love and joy and happiness. Our love for him is boundless, and our gratitude for what he gave us during his six short but undeniably full years is endless. His life was cut tragically short, and our own lives have been forever changed. He will always be our gallery dog, and we’re so thankful he played such a big role in the first five years of this business. Thank you for sharing in our love for him.

Since we didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to Thatcher on his final day, we each wrote Thatcher a letter a few weeks later. Here is Michael’s beautiful farewell.

Thatcher,

You came to us at a point where we were grieving and lost. We were in pieces and you put us back together. You lived up to your name, and thatched our hearts, our family, and our home. You brought us giggles and tears and belly laughs and tired eyes. You gave us a tether to keep us on the right path, and you filled the house again with a loving presence in every room. You walked with us through our grief and led the way back to happiness - back then, and so many times thereafter.

I should’ve known by the way you loved that we’d never get to keep you for long enough. You loved so deeply and completely that it could’ve filled multiple lifetimes. You held our eyes with hugs, and never turned down a single moment of touch. Your love and joy was in everything you did and every way you lived. It surrounded us and filled us, but leaves us reeling for the moments we still hoped to have.

I don’t know much about how this world works, or what thread of connection ties some of us together, but I know one thing for certain. You and I shared a love and bond that is once in a lifetime and wholly unique to the two of us. I will cherish every memory I have of you, and cling dearly to the snuggles and kisses, hikes in the woods, beach mornings, snowy field walks, chases in the yard, cuddles in the house, naps in the hammock, and moments of peace by the ocean. I see you everywhere there is beauty and know that one day I’ll feel you everywhere there is joy. I said it a million times while you were with us, but will say it a million more now that you’re gone - I love you, Thatcher.

When you were a puppy, we’d go to the woods and I’d let you explore just far enough ahead that I could still keep an eye on you. I’d call out “Bubba, wait!” and you’d turn back, look at me, and your eyes would say “Come on, slowpoke! There’s so much more just around the next turn!”

You might be out of our eyesight right now, but I know that whatever path we’re walking, you’re just ahead of us, waiting for us to catch up, come along, and enjoy the next turn together.