The Toughest Day of My Life

Have you ever lost someone?  A parent, maybe, a grandparent, aunt, uncle?  How about a pet?


It was January 1996.  I was three years old, almost four.  We got dropped off at Grandma and Grandpa Morris' house on Sibley Road and my parents went somewhere while we played and talked to them.  We heard the door open and different sets of feet than we were used to bounding in!  There was a little golden puppy, full of energy, running circles in the room.  I asked Daddy what her name was.  He told me we got to pick.  He went through a list of names and said Maggie.  I decided that would be a perfect name for the little bundle of joy.


Wow, did she grow up fast!  I don't know why mom bothered potty training Maggie the first year or two of her life; every time she got excited, like if someone knocked on the door, she'd pee on the floor anyway!  She had more energy than the two toddlers mom was raising combined.  As a guard dog, she didn't really do much use.  She was just too friendly.  She loved popcorn, grape popsicles, cheese, and bread.


Maggie soon learned what got us going.  She would take my baby blanket to play tug of war with me, took me by the braid and dragged me across the floor, and even sat on my face once!  She was always playing around with us.  She was also notorious for taking our bread, bag and all, out of the kitchen and burying it in the yard after she was done eating it.  She got good at figuring out where mom was going to be and following her around, simply laying in the way once she got too old to walk that much anymore.  Mom was constantly tripping over her.  She was very good at getting in front of our "first day of school" and Halloween pictures too.  But don't try to take a picture OF her!  She would move out of the way and be as uncooperative as ever.  I think she did it just to spite mom.


As Maggie started to get older, she became overweight.  We had to feed our big puppy diet food for awhile.  Almost as soon as she lost the weight we decided to put her on senior dog food.  She started developing arthritis and moving like an old pooch.  She would have a hard time getting up and moving and would lay down most of the time.  Sometimes, we had to help her up.


Her vision was going too.  She couldn't see the popcorn we threw for her anymore.  She had a hard time finding the popsicles we held for her.  She ran into walls and couldn't tell when the door was open anymore.  The scariest thing was when she fell down the stairs.  She would try to get back up and couldn't.  We had to wait for dad or Tom to come pick her up and carry her up the stairs.  Only once did she make it on her own and that was only because she knew I was scared.  


I guess once I left, she got worse.  She started holding her head funny and couldn't walk anymore.  Dad had me call him last Friday and told me she couldn't do it anymore.  They were going to put her down in the morning.  I didn't want to do anything, just sat there and cried.  That day and the day after were probably the toughest days of my life.  Maggie died on Sept. 11, 2010.  She was my best friend for all 14 years she lived.  I don't know what I'll do in October when I go home and she isn't there.  But that's another battle for another day.