- The Rainmakers
Last June I tearfully wrote a goodbye post for our dog Maggie. We thought we were losing her. A couple of days later I reverted that post into a draft. Maggie had begun to eat and drink again, and she was moving much better. We guessed that our 12-year-old dog just had a stomach bug. We cancelled her last appointment with the vet. Against all odds, we had her back again for what we knew would be our last summer together.
She barked, wagged her tail, and smiled all the time. I gave Mags a "truck ride" almost everyday. We knew we were living on borrowed time, but it was a good time.
Now her legs are weaker than we have ever seen them. She's on daily pain medication, but making her walk out to the front yard is beginning to feel cruel. She had an accident by her water dish this week, and that hasn't happened before. Last night I took a walk with Daphne, and we discussed what day we should schedule Maggie's appointment.
It's such a tough decision, but we are reassured by what our vet once told us, "I'd rather be a week early than even one day late." We also have to remember that we were given four extra months with Mags, and that's not something to be unappreciated.
I'm not going to rewrite that previous post. All of my thoughts, feelings, and worries are the same. I'll just add that the humane death of Maggie is not tragedy. It's part of the promise you make when you bring a pet into your life. But losing her does make our world feel incomplete.
From June 3, 2019:
Our neighbors had a beautiful golden retriever named Roxy. She didn't come over the fence for play dates, but she and Maggie would lie in the grass near each other for hours. Roxy prematurely died last winter (cancer), but Maggie still barks at their basement door hoping Roxy will come out. She only stops when I say, "I'm sorry, Maggie. Roxy can't come out to play."
As I write this, Maggie, our 12-year-old Pyrenees, is taking a nap. She didn't eat much this weekend, and this morning Mags refused to drink any water. Both Daphne and I went home for lunch to see how she was doing.
We brought her outside to enjoy some fresh air. A leash is unnecessary; she can barely stand on her rear legs.
The plan is to take her on a "truck ride" this afternoon - she loves those.
Maggie has been a constant in our lives since 2007. Mags has been there for most of our marriage. As far as Charlotte knows, there has always been a Maggie. When the three of us rode a day of RAGBRAI in 2014, Brent from the Breakfast Delights food stand said, "Hey guys! I almost didn't recognize you without your dog!"
I started this blog in 2012, and Maggie was the topic of one of my first posts. It was about truck rides. With the exception of Charlotte, there are probably more photos of Maggie on here than anyone else.
I did the math and calculated the approximate number times that she went outside to potty or party. The number is close to 22,000. What that doesn't tell is you how ingrained Maggie is into our lives. When Mags wants out, all she has to do is run her paw down the door frame. One of us will open the door for her without really thinking about it. I don't know how many times we have asked each other, "Is Mags in or out?"
For over a decade we have had to be home every afternoon to avoid an accident. I don't remember what it is like to plan a day that extends past 5:00 PM.
I'm also concerned how Charlotte will take this. When she was a toddler, Maggie was a nuisance that had to be shoved away, "Maggie! Go!" As Char grew, she took Mag's presence for granted. Char only complained when they got too close, "Mom! Maggie keeps sniffing me!" Now Char tells me, "I'm not really a dog person, Dad. I'm more of a cat person." But I'm not so sure. I was shocked at how much I missed my sister when she left for college. I bet we have some rocky days ahead.
As strange as it sounds, I am also worried about our cat Earl. I catch Maggie and Earl together all the time.
A few weeks ago, Earl ate (we think) something that made him very ill. We put him in a pet crate to keep his mistakes to a confined area. He's fine now, but Maggie slept next to his crate while Earl recovered.
We still have a few days to be together, I hope, but I know the Monsons will be missing one soon.
We had a pastor who told our congregation that if Heaven was big enough to hold all the souls that have ever walked the earth, then surely there was also room for the pets that we have loved. I have found that argument to be comforting. When Maggie scratches her paw on the Pearly Gates, Roxy will be there to show her around.
I'm sure the other feline Monsons - Brody, Chip, Theo, and Miles - will be waiting for her, too.
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