Farewell Maggie

Maggie, my in-laws forever faithful dog, has taken her final bow. 

She was 14 and just done with this world, so last weekend I took her in to the vet and said my final farewell.

We were watching her and Lexi while M&M were in Tennessee. Maggie could barely walk outside to take a leak, and even if she could get out there without being carried, she could barely squat. She wasn't eating. Or even moving other than to waddle to the water bowl.

So JB carried her out to the car in his arms one last time.  A big ball of fur and bones.

"I used to carry you like this when you were a puppy," he said. And he set her gently on the front seat. 

On the way to the vet I reminded Maggie what a great dog she was and what a great run she had. She was mostly deaf so I spoke loudly so that she could hear me. I commended her on her great faithfulness and obedience. And her varmint catching abilities. I told her that she would run again in heaven. 

"I like to think that there aren't squirrels in heaven though, so you'll have to find something else to chase," I told her. 

I couldn't carry on too much conversation because it wasn't safe to drive with tears flooding my eyes. It felt right to take her in; she was miserable. But it's still sad to say goodbye to an old friend. 


I waited in the room at the vet's office for at least a half hour, stroking Maggie's fur and telling her how wonderful and good she was. I was able to keep it together for the whole procedure. I shed tears at the very end, but didn't sob. 


And I was able to keep my sadness at bay until Friday, when I was taking Olivia to M&M's. "We're going to see Grandma Marian and Grandpa Mark," I told her. 

O was silent and then said, "Maggie!!..."


"No baby, Maggie is not there anymore. She went to heaven."


"Yexi?... Maggie!! MAGGIE!!"


"Stop talking about Maggie, O," I squeaked out between my tears. 


It was official. I was going to M&M's and for the first time Maggie would not be there. 

Good-bye, Waggum McTaggums. You were a GREAT dog. 

Guess who?

Tonight as I was searching for something else I stumbled upon this photo:


Holy crap! Either my Mom got some botox done, or Olivia went back in time to 1979! I look so cute I want to hug me! It is sooo weird to see my likeness in someone else.

Here is an actual photo of Mom and Olivia. Yep, O has my hair (and my Mom's)--sorry, O!



And Marian and Olivia, where you can see the side profile likeness.



On a related note, my mom saw this photo in an album that my cousin Bonnie made for Granny for Christmas. Mom said, "How did you get that photo of me and April??"


(To give her credit, back in the day she did have a shirt exactly like this one...)

I rocked my baby tonight

I rocked my baby tonight.

I really wanted to read more of Dick Francis’ The Edge.

and to shop for vintage books online.

I wanted to research Alfred Meakin’s Denmark china pattern, circa 1891

or sew Olivia’s windmill quilt and to fancy different ways to quilt the final product.

But I rocked my baby instead.

I should have unpacked from our Labor Day trip to the cabin,

or emailed a woman about starting a Book Club.

Perhaps paid some bills

and put a clean handtowel up in the bathroom.

But I rocked my baby instead.

I rocked her because every time I rock her in her light blue room,

I look at her half-open doorway with faint light spilling in from the hall

and see a 20-year-old girl standing there,

looking at me, saying,

“Mom, have you seen my book?” or “Mom, can you drive me back to college tomorrow?”

And I realize that one day

I will never rock my baby again.