Her Name Was Maggie

And we said goodbye to her today.

 

maggie2She was a great dog for over 15 years. In her prime, she ran like the wind. She squealed and whimpered with excitement whenever my husband put on the running leash. She was always great with the girls, even when they were crawling babies. She only snapped at a person once – Mean Neighbor Lady – so I could hardly hold it against her. That was back in the days when MNL used to take frequent walks – or “Daily Disapproval Tours” – to inspect the state of our house and garden. I suspected that she even peeked into windows when we weren’t home. Those inspections came to an abrupt end. Thanks Dog Three! (Full disclosure: MNL loves Dog Four and she is not so mean anymore.)

Maggie was the perfect guard dog. All bark and no bite. She would lunge at the door ferociously and immediately change her tune when she saw we were okay with this visitor. No one would have walked into this house without us here. I never felt the need to lock the front door.

I was her person. She followed me around the house for years. It was my job to make the call to end her suffering, but then I wimped out. I let my husband and the vet decide.  That was a mistake. Not the decision. Just the fact that I didn’t make it.

I’m Peter Pan and I have lost my shadow.

 

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9 thoughts on “Her Name Was Maggie

  1. Oh, nooooo! My heart breaks for you, 227. I’ve been through it twice. Both dogs were about Maggie’s age. The first was very quick (aggressive bone cancer). The second was a slow slide into old age–weight loss, incontinence, arthritis so bad he could barely walk. He had good days and bad days… he’d seem so miserable we were sure it was “time,” and then he would rally and we’d second-guess ourselves. It’s been three years now, and I still think of one end of the couch as “his corner.” Sometimes the loss of one’s shadow hurts more than losing a person. My deepest sympathy, you’ll be in my thoughts.

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