Maggis

Maggie's last walk this morning

I was there when he picked her out, December 2004. It was super cold but bright sunshiny day. We wound along a country road outside York, Penn. to go to a breeder. He wanted a purebred black Labrador. He had already met her a few days earlier, but today was the day he was picking her up. He named her Maggie, likely after the character on his then (and now?) favorite show The Simpsons. We took her to the pet store to pick out her first collar, leash and bowls. She was 8 weeks old and a terror; chewing and biting and pooping and peeing, like all puppies do. But she was also ridiculously cute, so it was hard to say no to her. 

They were like peas and carrots. Maggie had a soft sentimentality to her; a quietness that you could tell always brought Josh home. She was his home, for all intents and purposes. With that never-ending wag of her tail and those little pocket eyelids that drooped down, almost as if her eyeballs had never grown into them, she loved him with all she had. 

Cancer ravaged her. Her once gorgeous coat -- strangers on the street would routinely compliment Josh on her shiny, thick black coat, was gone, replaced by oozing sores and scaly abrasions. Her waggy tail that was fast in motion today when I brought her bacon and greeted her, was almost entirely just skin. Very little fur. It was difficult to find a place to pet her. I let her give me as many kisses as she wanted. Josh found out in October about his friend's fate and decided to try everything to save her. His friend. His best friend. He lost. 

Today as they put the IV in and just before that final medicine push; she stared at him with such intensity. He sobbed and closed his eyes, but in that moment, I could see that she was sending every ounce of love that she had to him, and making sure he was OK. And isn't that the point of having a dog, after all? Isn't that what it's all about? That unconditional love -- to the very, very end -- making sure he was OK. 

My heart broke today for Josh. It was the right thing to do for her, just like it was for Mrs. Baylee. But as many times as people told me that at the time, and I knew that to be true in my heart, I kept thinking, what about me? And what about Josh, now that she's gone. 

Sometimes I really hate the march of time. Babies grow up. Dogs die. Marriages split up. People get sick. The bittersweet march of life goes on. I know the painful times give you perspective and appreciation for the happy times, but man, those gut-wrenching days like today are tough to swallow. 

Goodbye Maggie Moo Lynch. You were so much more than a dog. You were loved beyond belief.