Oh Maggie May

How does such a little four-legged pawed pup have such a pull on one’s heart? I had to say a final goodbye to my Maggie May on Monday morn. Never did it occur to me that when I brought her into the vet that she would not be leaving with me. Although the Sunday evening to Monday morning did not bode well as her bodily behaviour showed me in her own way that it was time. I thought I shed enough tears to last a life time for my parents last summer as they jostled the very core of my being and world by their passing so crazily close together. And now my puppy girl.

When I walked up to the top of the lane with Maggie in my arms as spring thaw has come a knocking, she let me carry her. No wiggle or pushing me as per usual. Just tucked her little head under my chin as I trekked up, my footprints embedding themselves on the clay lane as I drew closer to the truck. She did not really move at all as I placed her on to the seat, wrapping her snuggly in the blanket, before I closed the door. So not her. For a Maggie move would have been to jump up on the seat, look around, and watch me carefully while I come around to other side to get into truck.

One knows for the most part that when you get a pet, they generally will not out last you. And so after 11 plus years, being my constant companion at the hip, side, back of head, lap, feet, face or wherever else she could glue herself, I had to say goodbye. Oh Maggie May I am so very sorry. When the vet came back to share the results of the blood work, the prognosis was not good. It was not about me and my selfish need. But of course when you hear the two choices, you are not fully understanding. I had to go in mama bear mode to come to grips with what the vet was saying to me. One would be to prolong her life for a wee bit with a drug but not guaranteeing good results and the other would be the other. And that they could do ‘the other’ act right away. Holy moly. Oh Lord give me the strength.

I can remember so vividly that cute little curly fur and stubby legs not so long ago. Holding her in my arms, tears falling freely, I sang to her Be Not Afraid, I rocked her letting her know I’ve got her. She would not suffer any more and would not die alone. Oh Maggie May!! She just looked at me as I laid her on the blanketed table, holding her paw and head as they prepared her. Loyal and so trusting. It was quick in the end, her wee little head gently fell upon my arm. Life and death. So brief in so many ways but paradoxically filled with thousands of memories too. I kissed her and told her I loved her. Hardest moment to open that door.

I am so ever grateful for the care and kindness of the Kensington clinic and the beautiful actions of the three team members who made it bearable. When I returned home, I saw my footprints that I had left earlier on, but not Maggie’s. She would have been prancing all over the lane, not avoiding the soft muddy clay as she sniffed out her little world. And naturally, I would have had to wash her paws and under her bel….again. It was all about Maggie. LOL. Not this time little one, I guess it was a telling.

There is a quiet and stillness that fills the room as I sit here. Tears well up as I ponder what just happened this past week. She may have been small but so mighty in her presence. I can feel a loss, a loss of unconditional love. Her loyalty was endless. She gave love, sought love and was loved by all who she touched. Maybe not who she jumped on. LOL.

But. No more silent companion. No more walking partner to stop at each blade of grass to do business and slow our walk. No yippy yapper nor wiggly little tail. No shower baths or no more putting you in the pool on hot summer days (I finally got a heat pump to ease the hot days this year!!). No more dirty paw prints across the floor. No indent in the sofa pillow. No more hogging or hitting lump on bed as I try to stretch. No more cleaning of dog doodoos when I forgot to carry a dog baggie. No tongue licks on the truck window. No little face at the door when I return or begging for food from guests. No more greeting by jumping up on strangers or guests. No more lying at my feet while I read or do puzzles or write. No more seeing those happily floppy ears. No more eyes following me from one end of the room to another or barking at the unknown noise heard miles away. Oh my. No more.

So my loyal companion of many moons, I am going to miss you. Give a lick or two to mom and dad, say hi to Luna or run from her but most of all know you are so loved by your family. I guess I’ll get to washing those paw prints and licks off the window and door at some point. But not today. Nope not today. Blessings.

Let us pray for those whom are in need of our prayers. And for those who have experienced a loss.