All Dogs Go To Heaven
I remember being so excited the night my mom decided we were going to get dogs. We had just gotten a couple of really soft (and nuerotic) kittens the year before and we were already getting PUPPIES!!
I was ecstatic.
I love dogs. Alright, I love animals. Okay, now that's out of the way...
I love dogs. I pulled the 1938 (reprinted much later) novel of Lassie by Eric Knight off the reading shelf in the fifth grade.
Alright, I love books. Think about it, man! Books and Dogs! Together! I could hardly contain myself throughout the story. So, the night came when my mom, my sister and I went out to a friend and co-worker of my mother's who had a litter of puppies born just two weeks previous, to a proud pure-bred Great Pyrenees(dad) and a pure-bred Akita(mom).
There were many of them and I could hardly believe how SMALL they were! They could fit inside the palm of one of my pre-teen hands. I was incredibly impressed (even though I was a little brat with nothing to say) and a little too involved with what I thought about myself to really enjoy the moment.
We came back a few weeks later and the puppies had all grown SIGNIFICANTLY. At eight weeks, they were now huggable. Both of them could still fit in my lap, only now they had claws and teeth and wagging tails. We knew one of the ones we had picked a month ago was one of the ones we purchased. She had a little white stripe on her muzzle. My mom and I had a deal that we both got to name one of them. My mom named her Maggie. I don't know if the one we bought was the one I picked out a month before (her muzzle was black), but, I named her Brighton (after the ski-resort up Big Cottonwood Canyon in UT).
We did this with the cats, too and my mom picked a name reasonable for a person and I picked a name which both reminded me of cats AND soccer. (Becka and Puma)
Anyway. I immediately took the duty upon myself of spending as much time as I could with the new puppies and making sure they learned to make their messes on newspaper (mostly consisting of me making sure newspaper spread over every inch of the floor) and learning nothing was safe from the tiny teeth of K-9's.
This was over eight and a half years ago.
Maggie died in her sleep last Saturday. My mom called me while I was shopping at the grocery store and let me know she found her when bringing the girls in to eat that night. She told me Brighton had been anxious that night and Maggie had been having some difficulty the day before.
I knew one day I'd be saying "goodbye" for the final time to both of them at some point. I accepted the mortality of smaller animals brought into the family. I might have had a faint inkling of awareness during the final goodbye moment with Maggie.
She was such a sweet dog and had such a personality! My favorite moment to remember her by, is when I was walking both dogs with my sister at Liberty Park (slc, ut) and Brighton got away from me. I ran as much as I could to catch her while still handling Maggie, but, she was too agile for me. I ran one way around a tree and Maggie ran the other way and I was pulled into the air while she was pulled into the tree. I let go of the leash and Maggie ran as fast as she could away from me. I couldn't catch her. Well, we caught Brighton and accepted we'd be looking for Maggie and headed home. When we arrived, we started calling out to her to see if she'd come and Maggie pops up onto her hind legs and places her front paws on the ledge of our porch and she just looked SO happy to see us! I was just relieved to have her home safe and felt much anguish over slamming her into a tree. She forgave me, I think.
I'll remember her always.
I was ecstatic.
I love dogs. Alright, I love animals. Okay, now that's out of the way...
I love dogs. I pulled the 1938 (reprinted much later) novel of Lassie by Eric Knight off the reading shelf in the fifth grade.
Alright, I love books. Think about it, man! Books and Dogs! Together! I could hardly contain myself throughout the story. So, the night came when my mom, my sister and I went out to a friend and co-worker of my mother's who had a litter of puppies born just two weeks previous, to a proud pure-bred Great Pyrenees(dad) and a pure-bred Akita(mom).
There were many of them and I could hardly believe how SMALL they were! They could fit inside the palm of one of my pre-teen hands. I was incredibly impressed (even though I was a little brat with nothing to say) and a little too involved with what I thought about myself to really enjoy the moment.
We came back a few weeks later and the puppies had all grown SIGNIFICANTLY. At eight weeks, they were now huggable. Both of them could still fit in my lap, only now they had claws and teeth and wagging tails. We knew one of the ones we had picked a month ago was one of the ones we purchased. She had a little white stripe on her muzzle. My mom and I had a deal that we both got to name one of them. My mom named her Maggie. I don't know if the one we bought was the one I picked out a month before (her muzzle was black), but, I named her Brighton (after the ski-resort up Big Cottonwood Canyon in UT).
We did this with the cats, too and my mom picked a name reasonable for a person and I picked a name which both reminded me of cats AND soccer. (Becka and Puma)
Anyway. I immediately took the duty upon myself of spending as much time as I could with the new puppies and making sure they learned to make their messes on newspaper (mostly consisting of me making sure newspaper spread over every inch of the floor) and learning nothing was safe from the tiny teeth of K-9's.
This was over eight and a half years ago.
Maggie died in her sleep last Saturday. My mom called me while I was shopping at the grocery store and let me know she found her when bringing the girls in to eat that night. She told me Brighton had been anxious that night and Maggie had been having some difficulty the day before.
I knew one day I'd be saying "goodbye" for the final time to both of them at some point. I accepted the mortality of smaller animals brought into the family. I might have had a faint inkling of awareness during the final goodbye moment with Maggie.
She was such a sweet dog and had such a personality! My favorite moment to remember her by, is when I was walking both dogs with my sister at Liberty Park (slc, ut) and Brighton got away from me. I ran as much as I could to catch her while still handling Maggie, but, she was too agile for me. I ran one way around a tree and Maggie ran the other way and I was pulled into the air while she was pulled into the tree. I let go of the leash and Maggie ran as fast as she could away from me. I couldn't catch her. Well, we caught Brighton and accepted we'd be looking for Maggie and headed home. When we arrived, we started calling out to her to see if she'd come and Maggie pops up onto her hind legs and places her front paws on the ledge of our porch and she just looked SO happy to see us! I was just relieved to have her home safe and felt much anguish over slamming her into a tree. She forgave me, I think.
I'll remember her always.
posted by Forrest at 12:00 AM
5 Comments:
My deepest sympathies, and congratulations on being able to share such a life. Everyone, everyone should have to love a pet.
That is sad. But I'm sure she's happy and romping somewhere better.
I am so sorry to read about your dog. May you always remember the special memories and feel blessed that you were a part of her life and she a part of yours.
This is the first time I have read your blog, and I have to say, you write exceptionally well. I have linked to your site so I will always be able to find it and read more.
Stay strong- sounds like things have been trying lately.
The sad truth.
i remember when becca died.....you were pretty torn up about that and it was sad....i saw alittle bit of the old ricky i rememberedin this blog...but still the passing of maggie is sad and you know my opinions we already talked aboutit.....but im just glad i have pics to remember both maggie and brighton by.
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