My 13 year-old standard poodle died in her sleep last night. She had sarcoma, and it was a matter of time, but she seemed to be doing well. Ate 3 good meals on her last day. But when everyone else got up this morning to go out, she didn’t come. And when I checked on her, she was gone.
I got her twelve and a half years ago. A co-worker decided she needed a dog, even though she’d never had so much as a goldfish. I tried to convince her to get a doberman, but out CFO had standard poodles, so that’s what she had to have. I went with her to the breeder’s house to pick the puppy up. She was 4 months old, coal-black and so sweet. We took her back to our office and she laid down in the corner of Nikki’s cube, accepting adoration as her right.
I went home with Nikki, set up the crate I loaned her, the toys I bought, the dishes I provided. The next morning I get a call. “The dog’s got to go. She’s following me everywhere!” I explained, “She’s lost everything she has in the world, and you’re all she’s got. Of course she’s following you everywhere!”. “Well, I can’t have that. Will you take her back to the breeder for me?” No, she’s your responsibility, you do it.
Two weeks go by, The CFO has called the breeder twice, trying to buy the puppy that I can’t get off my mind. Finally I called her. “What took you so long?”, she said. “I’ve been waiting for your call. I knew she was your dog from the moment you met.” She gave my the puppy, and I’ve had almost 13 years of the non-stop love and enthusiasm a poodle can bring.
I’m so sorry, StG; I know it’ll hurt as you miss her each day and I hope that fades to just happy memories sooner than later.
Goodbye Maggie, I’m sure you were a treasure.
I’m so sorry StG. I know the pain all too well; I’m still reeling over the loss of both of my Gordons this year. There is an emptiness in my soul that I don’t think will ever fill.
I’m so sorry for your loss, but happy for you that Maggie ''recognized" her human from the start. Grief is the price we have to pay for having such wonderful companions. I hope that you find solace in the fact that she had a good life with you. R.I.P. Maggie.
Thanks, everyone. I keep telling myself that she gave me the gift of not having to make the decision, and that she had good days all the way up to the end. And that I didn’t leave treatment options on the table - I don’t have to say , “I Wish I’d tried one more thing…”. But still, there’s a Maggie-sized hole in my heart right now. The other 5 dogs are also a little subdued.
