Not the least hard thing to bear
when they go from us,
these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them
so many years of our own lives.
John Galsworthy — Quiet Friends
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Maggie – 2012 – 4 years old
Maggie (Mae) Moore died peacefully on 6/4/2021, surrounded by her heart-broken human parents. Born 3/22/2008, she was advertised by the rescue service to be part Beagle. Many years later, her DNA results surprised everyone by indicating she was mostly German Shepherd and Walker Coon Hound. But we will remember her as running like a Greyhound with the coat of a yellow Lab and the dexterity of a doe.
Maggie came into our lives when she was barely 3 months old. Carsick and covered in her own vomit, Maggie was dropped off quickly at our house by the rescue worker, who sped away before we could even change our minds. There stood our frightened, shaking, pitiful little puppy who made us work for it from the very beginning. Not motivated by food, toys, or affection, we quickly learned the girl was afraid of almost everything. It took over two years for her to even make eye contact with us. Thunderstorms, fireworks, and gunshots sent her trembling in terror and unable to be reasoned with or calmed down. As she got older, she added garbage trucks, lawnmowers, vacuum cleaners, dishwashers, and washing machines to the endless list of sounds that scared her. After she decided we were trustworthy, she insisted one or both of us huddle with her in the closet until she determined the danger had passed. Over-the-counter remedies took the edge off, but prescription drugs soon became the norm.
She suffered a major health issue a few months ago and was diagnosed with potentially IBD or cancer. Although the vet prepared us for the worst, she managed to pull through. While a complete change in diet and medication brought her mostly back to life, the ordeal clearly took a toll on her and her body, and every day had become a physical and mental struggle for Maggie. We knew when she was spending even quiet sunny days hiding in the bathroom that she was slipping away. We were left to make the terribly difficult decision to set her free.
Nothing about Maggie was easy, and we knew from the beginning she was a hot mess. But she was our hot mess, and we could not have loved her more. Despite all her fears and anxieties, she loved children, liked most people, and lived to go on long walks, chase rabbits, tree squirrels, and run flocks of birds from the beach in her early life. There were only a few dogs she tolerated, yet she maintained a special fondness for Foster, Charleigh, Yeti, and Sadie.
She was a loyal Daddy’s girl to the end and gave unconditional love to us both for 13 years. Earl taught her to sit, heel, and walk on a leash. She wouldn’t fetch a ball and never mastered “stay” for more than a few seconds, but she managed to teach us the real meaning of patience. She insisted we always share any vanilla wafers or Cheetos with her. But most of all, she taught us there is never a good reason to raise your voice. We grew to care so much for her that our lives revolved around her special needs, often to the dismay of family and friends.
The hole she leaves is unimaginable and huge. RIP our Maggie Mae.
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Maggie – 2008 – 3 months old
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Maggie – March 2021 – 13 years old
Note: Bonnie and I have been working several days on this memorial post for Maggie. It’s been clear for weeks that Maggie’s mental and physical conditions were deteriorating causing her stress and robbing her of quality of life. This post serves multiple purposes: it’s a notice of Maggie’s passing; it’s a marker of how much she meant to us and our lives; and it served as a beginning of healing for the two of us.
I am heartbroken in reading this. My thoughts are with you both in this terribly painful and difficult time. And I know not a single word can offer any comfort as I’ve gone through the same.
I thought of your similar not-so-distant sad loss, Mark, and I appreciate the thoughts behind the words.
I am so sorry. RIP Maggie.
Thank you, Kent. It’s been a long time. I hope you’re doing well.
In tears, but this is too beautiful to not keep reading, and of course, understanding. Beautiful eulogy.
” Not the least hard thing to bear
when they go from us,
these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them
so many years of our own lives.”
John Galsworthy — Quiet Friends
Just, wow. rip Miss Maggie Mae.
Thank you, Mary Lou.
I’m so sorry, Earl.
Thanks, Ken. I appreciate it.
I’m so sorry! I know Maggie was the center of your family! Love to both of you!
Thanks, Kathy. Yeah, the house seems empty without her roaming around, determined to know everything going on.
So very sorry to hear of your loss, Earl. Thank you for Maggie’s story.
Thanks, Joe.
So very sorry for your loss. This was a wonderful tribute to her and what she meant to you!
Thanks, Howard.
I am very sorry that you lost your companion, Earl & Bonnie. This is a lovely tribute to her, and reading about her story and antics made me smile, even on such a sad occasion, because it’s so very relatable. Thanks for posting it.
Thank you, Alex.
I read this post this morning and could not write a comment, I just cried. It’s hard to imagine the loss you and Bonnie are going through, “this hole she leaves is unimaginable and huge.” As I’ve followed you two over these years I’ve come to know her as an integral part of this blog. I will miss here also and thus the reason for my tears. I will pray for the healing you each need. I must also say this was a well written post (eulogy). ❤️🙏
Maggie has been such an integral part of us for so long that in addition to the grief of missing her in almost every moment, we’re going to have this task of reinventing what life is without her. Thank you, Monte, for your kind words, your thoughts, your prayers, and your tears. It means more than you know.