MAGGIE

My first recollection of having a pet as a little girl was our boxer named “General”! I barely remember it happening but I’ve been told that I dropped the pup just after he came home from the vet from having his tale snipped. I remember him yelping and staying far from me for a very long time. He didn’t have a long life and I don’t remember why.

Our next dog belonged to my brother Harry and he was a black lab - also named General. I’m not sure why Harry called it the same name as our last dog but he did. General got himself into all kinds of mischief but we all loved him. One Sunday - my Dad took some steaks out of the freezer to thaw while we were at church. General was blocked in the back hallway by a large gate to keep him out of the kitchen. He must have worked very hard because by the time we got home from church - General had managed to move the gate enough to wiggle through - into the kitchen - jump on the counter and eat the steaks. I thought my Dad would blow a gasket. Another time, Harry had been lying in the hammock in the backyard and General was tied to the frame. Harry went in the house and left General tied. Big mistake. General didn’t like the mailman and out of the corner of his eye - he saw the mailman walking down the street. General took of like a shot and chased the mailman down the street - dragging the hammock frame behind him. It was quite a sight. When Harry moved out of the house at the age of 19 - General went with him and that was the end of pets in our house.

After Randy and I got married we talked about getting a dog but it never seemed to be the right time. I took matters into my own hands and one Father’s Day - we gave Randy a pup we named Max. Max was a mutt - from a local farmer and grew to be a rather big dog. We had him for a couple of years but for various reasons, we gave him back to the farmer we got him from. Max lived happily on the farm for many - many years and that farmer said that Max was the best farm dog he ever had. That brought joy to my heart.

For many years I wanted another dog but once again it never seemed to be the right time - until………I received the best Christmas present I ever.

Christmas Eve day - 2005 - was a busy day. We always hosted a Christmas Eve party for friends and family and church folks after the Christmas Eve service - so I was in the kitchen that morning preparing the last minute appetizers and goodies that I planned to serve that evening. Ben’s girlfriend, Jen (who later became his wife) was visiting and planning to head to her own home around noon time. Pete was home too and Zac was arriving home from a trip to the Dominican Republic later that evening. I was surprised that Ben and Jen and Pete had headed out early to do “some last minute Christmas shopping”. I thought they’d all sleep in after finishing up another semester of university and work. I was busy cleaning and cooking when Jen came in the house after their shopping expedition and said that “my car was making a strange noise and I should come outside to check it out!” All I could think of was that it was Christmas Eve and I hoped the car didn’t need to go to get serviced! I told Jen to tell the guys I’d be right out.

Now that Christmas was a mild one - no snow - green grass - rather warm, really. I grabbed a sweater and headed out the front door to see what was wrong with my car. Ben was still sitting in the driver’s seat and Pete, seeing me come outside, opened the passenger door, put something on the ground, and the cutest ball of yellow fluff ran towards me. A beautiful, golden retriever puppy. I was astounded. The pup ran into my arms, four legs wriggling, little pink tongue licking my face, and puppy noises coming out of her. Randy had come out of the garage by then, and all four of them said at once - “she’s yours - Merry Christmas!” Her name came to my mind instantly - Maggie.

Maggie was with me for the next ten and a half years. What a special girl she was. Maggie was blond and grew into her adult weight - around 90 pounds. We always said she was “big boned”. Even though the Magster was a big dog, she considered herself a lap dog! She loved to cuddle. She loved attention. She loved her stuffed animals. She loved to play fetch, although, she rarely gave up the ball or stick. She was best friends with Zac’s black lab, Willis. They were like brother and sister because they spent so much time together.

Maggie was so good at reading my thoughts and feelings. When my dad died in 2007, I immediately drove to Westport to be with my Mom and of course, Maggie came with me. Maggie knew that Mom and I were both sad and constantly rubbed her nose in our laps and faces to comfort us. When my Mom would lie down on her bed, Maggie would climb up beside her to provide warmth and love for Mom’s grief. My parents were married for 69 years and dated for four years before that - they were together for most of their lives.

Maggie went everywhere with Randy and I but when she was at home by herself for a few hours - she always met us at the door with one of her stuffies and greeted us with her welcome home whines, tail wagging and kisses. She slept with Randy and me and he used to say - “Not too many men get to sleep with two blondes!”

Mag was terrified of thunder storms. Even when the rumbling was far off - she would come to us - trembling - whimpering - terrified - and it seemed no amount of our reassurance comforted her. The best we could do was stroke her head and neck and speak soothing words to her.

Maggie got really sick for a few days when she was two or three years old - like, really sick. She wouldn’t eat or drink and lay listlessly on the floor. I called my Mom and told her what was going on and she suggested a few “old wives remedies” to see if that would help. Nothing worked and I was scared. I called her back and she said she would pray that Maggie would get better. She said it was the only animal she ever prayed for. Sure enough, after those long three days, Maggie returned to her impish, loveable, golden retriever self.

When Randy collapsed and we were all coming and going during the week he was in the hospital, Maggie was certainly out of sorts. She didn’t know what had happened but she knew something had. I wish she could have talked to me during those hard days. She couldn’t talk but she understood when I talked to her. She stayed with friends during the days but I brought her home to be with me for night time. She slept near me and cuddled me and licked my tears away.

Once - on one of our road trips to Cornwall - after Randy passed away - we stopped in Westport at his grave. It was a cold, autumn, grey day. Just Maggie and me in the cemetery. I sat beside the grave. The mound was still dirt - no grass yet - and no stone marker yet. I was crying and Maggie did the strangest thing. She wouldn’t come near the mound of ground. She lay down several feet away from me and howled. She knew. Her grief was evident. After awhile we both made our way to the car - got in - and I said to her - “just you and me girl”. She barked as if to affirm my statement.

As Maggie aged - her hips began to give her trouble. I could tell that she hurt. Some days when I would grab her leash - it seemed she was eager to go for her walk but when we would get to the end of the driveway, she would stop and sit down. No amount of coaxing would make her move. She was in too much pain. I took her to the Vet and he said x-rays showed incredible arthritis in both of her hips. He gave some medicine that helped for a few months. He suggested stronger medicine that I couldn’t afford. I asked him if there were any other options. He said the gracious thing would be to eventually “let her go”. I asked when. He said “when I couldn’t stand watching her in pain - that dogs will continue to endure great amounts of pain just to be with their humans.”

“That time” came several months later. It was after Harv and I were married and Maggie could hardly get up to go outside to do her business. She longed to walk the beach and the odd time we went - she could hardly get up the hill to get home and then she’d be spent for the rest of the day. She cried in her sleep. I told Harv to make the phone call. And then, the strangest thing happened after Harv got off the phone. (He called from the front step as I couldn’t even listen to his discussion with our vet.) Maggie got up from her bed and limped over to where Harvey was sitting - looked him straight in the eyes - and then put her head on his knee. She was saying thank you for doing the hard thing and I do believe she was affirming our difficult decision. She needed to be released from this life and allowed to run free in the next.

Two days later we took Mag for her last car ride. I put the car windows down so she could feel the breeze. I had brushed her coat that morning and she was beautiful. I gave her her favourite treats for breakfast.

I sat on the floor in the vet’s room and Maggie lay across my knees. She looked me in the eye and I didn’t take my eyes off of her. I rubbed her head. I spoke words of love to her. She trusted me implicitly. The needle went in and my heart was broken for a second time in those few years. Two precious souls had left me. I stayed with Maggie for several minutes after she was gone. I thanked God for her life and the good years we had together. She was precious to me and I’ll never forget her. The best Christmas gift ever. Thanks - boys - for your gift to me.

Proverbs 12:10 “The righteous care for the needs of their animals.”