Lessons from Maggie

My life was changed forever the day she became a part of it.  I waited 23 years before getting my first dog, and looking back it’s amazing what I missed growing up without one.  Don’t get me wrong, I had a plethora of pets growing up.  We housed cats, birds, fish, gerbils, and my brother even had a rat.  I guess for me, my heart really never understood just how much a part of my family a pet could be until my sweet Maggie came into my life.  She blessed my home for a little over 14 years and despite her interest in our garbage cans, she was a very well-behaved dog.  She was very easy-going and didn’t have a mean bone in her body.  She had a very unique look as well.  I always told people she was part Beagle, part sneaky neighbor’s dog.  Her head looked like a Beagle, her body was black and white spotted, her legs were red and white spotted, and she had a large black spot on her side.  She also had one ear that stuck straight out to the side and one that flopped over.  One hot July, while at my in-laws’ house in west Texas, we decided she needed a haircut.  With the goat clippers in hand, my brother-in-law sheared the thick hair off her to reveal a very spotted dog underneath.  You could tell she felt better, and as the years passed, we would occasionally shave her at home so as to reduce the amount of Maggie hair that collected throughout the house.  As with any pet, there are lessons to be learned, but Maggie had a way of teaching those lessons to us in her own unique way.  I figured it’s always good to learn something through another’s experiences, so I wanted to share some of Maggie’s life lessons with you.

  1. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you; kisses are much more effective.
  2. Your food always tastes better when it comes from someone else’s bowl.
  3. It is possible to teach an old dog new tricks.
  4. When in doubt, dig it up.
  5. If it smells like something dead, it is best to roll on it ensuring its stench covers you thoroughly.
  6. It’s easier to just go with the flow.
  7. A stranger is a friend you haven’t met (or licked) yet.
  8. It’s necessary every once in a while to assert your dominance.
  9. When you gotta go, you gotta go!
  10. There’s nothing better than a cold tile floor to cool you off on a hot day.
  11. Boundaries are for wussies!
  12. Being a daredevil can be as easy as playing in traffic or going on an expedition.
  13. Houdini has some serious competition in the “escape artist” arena.
  14. Dog food is good, but cookies are better.
  15. Determination can be measured by seeing just how far your tongue can stretch into a mostly empty jar of peanut butter.
  16. June bugs are a great source of protein.
  17. When no response is received, bark louder…and more frequently.
  18. It is possible to river dance on a tabletop.
  19. A day of beauty will get your noticed.
  20. When you get caught stealing food, it is best to shove as much of it into your mouth before making a break for it.
  21. Eyebrows NEVER stop growing.
  22. You can sleep through pretty much anything.
  23. There is always a buried treasure at the BOTTOM of the garbage can.
  24. Paper towels and tissues are meant to be shredded and thrown about in celebration.
  25. Dad’s side of the bed is much more comfy…especially under the sheets.
  26. If you didn’t see them see you on the couch it doesn’t count.
  27. It is possible to get your neck wet when drinking water.
  28. Hiding under the house will earn you another night’s stay at Mama Sissy & Paw Paw’s house.
  29. Playing chase is fun, especially when it’s after you’ve escaped from the yard.
  30. It is possible to be both sweet and devious at the same time.

Sure all of these are valuable lessons, but none quite compare with the final ones she taught me.

Love is unconditional.
Forgiveness is universal.
Home is where your box is parked.
Whatever someone wants to call you is okay as long as they call you with love.

And finally…

My life will never be the same without my sweet Maggie.

Lost in Thoughts

I’ve been sitting here for the last two hours trying to find just the right song for a Zumba warm up and have made no progress.  Everything I hear has either already been done or just isn’t what I’m looking for.  I find myself distracted by the smallest things like the clicking of the ceiling fan, or more pressing matters like remembering to drive to Belton tomorrow to pick up the part for the washing machine that broke tonight.  I’m lost in thought, forgetting all about the song I’ve been looking for, when I look down and see my sweet Maggie laying on the floor and my thoughts take yet another turn that I can’t seem to shake.  I start wondering if she knows just how ill she is.  I wonder if she’s hurting or scared.  I wonder if she has any idea just how much I love her.  I start welling up again knowing I can’t stop the tears from falling.  How can the end be getting closer and closer?  How do I say goodbye to someone who has been the equivalent to a child to me for over 14 years?  Why can’t I go through this for her?  Why is it that at the end she has to go through this alone?  Am I just giving myself a reason for a good cry?  These kinds of questions keep running through my mind as I sit here in my quiet house.

I guess getting lost in thought has always been more of a passive activity for me sort of like when I drive from my house to HEB.  I’ve been there a million times so I’m pretty much on autopilot driving there.  It’s only when I arrive in the parking spot that I start questioning if all of those lights I just drove through actually were green.  The difference now is that these thoughts aren’t passive.  They’re very real, and, in this case, the reality sucks.

I have always had a knack for rambling on and on so you could imagine what it must be like to be inside my head.  Fortunately, after a few minutes, I find myself calming down as I help Maggie to bed.  The rambling has subsided, but I know it is only temporarily silenced.  I know the next time will catch me off guard again as my mind goes from passive to active thoughts.  The floodgates have closed for the night although I’m a bit emotionally drained.  I know in the morning I will do the same as I have done for the last several months.  I will get up to let the dogs out and pray that when I open Maggie’s door to her box that her chest is rising and falling in a relaxing slumber.  Someday I know I’ll awaken to an empty box, but for now I will cherish every day I have with her.  I will laugh at her crazy eyebrows.  I will smile when I see her have a sudden burst of energy.  I will continue to be generous with her treats and will look the other way when she decides to eat her brother’s food instead of her own even though it’s exactly the same.  Most of all, I will remind myself that I will not love her for the rest of her life, but instead for the rest of mine.