On July 23rd, I had to do one of the hardest things I have ever done. I had to make the call to put my sweet Maggie down. It was sudden, unexpected, and broke my heart. I have not cried that hard or that long in a long, long time..
Maggie came to us at a few months old from a "one-armed man in North Carolina" who later survived a tornado hitting his home and kennels. That tornado trapped and injured him (house collapsed) and killed some of his dogs. He had held Maggie back because she was so tiny that he thought she'd die. She didn't. Instead, she took over his home and housebroke herself! He wasn't able to keep up with her grooming and didn't want a house dog, so he sold her to me when she was a few months old. He had named her Tina.
I brought her home and gave her the first and worst haircut she ever had which is pictured in the blog. Because she reminded me of one of the beautiful flowers and could easily fit inside of one, I gave her the papered name of Sweet Magnolia Blossom. I called her Maggie. Little Maggie quickly conquered our hearts and our home.
Maggie was a gift to me from my husband. Clint knew my arms were aching from multiple miscarriages and stillbirths. My heart was so very broken, it took every bit of mental and physical strength I had to get up every morning to care for the children I had. Clint gave me Maggie as a way to ease some of the pain and sorrow.
I allowed myself three outlets for my grief. I would pray and let it out to God. I would also ring a farm bell once for each of the babies I did not get to hold. And, Dear Reader, baby losses literally make the arms ache. It's a physical and emotional ache. When that strong aching would come, I would hold Maggie and give her kisses on her soft tiny head...one for each baby I had lost and one just for her. Just a few days before she died, I kissed her little head nine times, paused, and then kissed her once more.
When I was a little girl, I talked to the Lord about how nice it would be if we could have dogs the size of puppies. God gifted my desire when He blessed me with Maggie!! Full grown, she weighed a little over 3 lbs in the summer and close to 5 lbs in the winter. If you've seen the picture in the blog, you know she was not much bigger than a canning jar.
Tiny Maggie infused herself into everything, and I do mean everything, going on in our family and on our farm. If she could push the door open, she was in the bathroom with you. She waited for bits of food to "accidentally" fall from the kitchen counter as I cooked. She had no issues slipping through a fence to help round up hogs or stand beside us as we trimmed goat hooves. She liked our horses even though I was scared she'd be stepped on accidentally.
Maggie put on a good front acting like she hated cats but we'd often catch her playing or sleeping with them. She did not think she was a dog, and she was not a happy poodle if we put her in with the other dogs. She did become quite fond of Brandon's dog, Girly. They enjoyed patrolling the property together and playfully annoying the cats. Sassy Maggie would behave very boldly as long as she knew big ole Girly was standing behind her! Maggie would hold up vehicles from coming down the driveway until she was satisfied she knew who they were. I often wondered how a tiny, white, pedigreed toy poodle ended up on our rugged farm.
There are a lot of pictures and mentions of Maggie in the blog. It is amazing how something so very small could become such a big part of life! Maggie had her own mind and was very opinionated. She would show her displeasure with a huff and/or by presenting her back to us. If I did something to offend her, usually a bath or a hair trimming, she would go be with someone else in the family while giving me dirty looks. In her younger years, she would bite at the clippers I used to trim her fur. She never once nipped at anyone in our family though.
She would pout so badly when I kept her out of the main garden that I eventually stacked soil bags in the shade and made her an elevated place to sit so she could see me while I worked. That was enough to satisfy her. I didn't let her in there because her favorite resting spots were always on the vegetable plants! That was one thing I could never train out of her.
If I left her at home, which was rare after I saw how it affected her, she would jump repeatedly on the back of my ankles as soon as she could get to me with a whimper each time. She would keep doing that until I acknowledged her by picking her up. When I picked her up, she would wiggle and cuddle and whimper over and over. I soon learned that she was letting me know it hurt her feelings when I left her. So, I tried to accommodate her as much as I could. She did not do this "How could you leave me?!" behavior with anyone else, just me, her human mama.
Sometimes I'd wake up in the middle of the night feeling like someone was staring at me. They were. A cold Maggie would stare at me until I opened the covers to let her under. If I did not awaken soon enough, she'd give a demanding "uff!!" She even demanded a dressed-up skeleton Joshua used for pranks pick her up and let her sit with it. That's in the blog too. Maggie was a lot of fun!
Research shows poodles to be the second smartest of dog breeds which is why I wanted to work with them in our kennel. They are very easy to train and can learn over 300 words. They obey a known command with a 95% success rate which is very, very high. They are known for being very emotionally intelligent and can easily and accurately read their owner's body language, gestures, and tone of voice. I was intrigued with the breed after my experience with a medical alert standard-sized poodle in a grocery store. I asked the lady to tell me about her dog and she was more than happy to do so.
Not too long after that encounter, we were chosen to receive some abused dogs in a high-profile case from a neighboring state. Among them were a couple of poodles. One of those had spent all of her life in a tiny wire crate. She had spent her life circling in that cage that was only big enough for her to turn around. She would move by walking in circles in the direction she wanted to go. She'd get to you, but it would take a while. We named her "Dizzy," and she had a good rest of her life on our farm. Once I had some experience with poodles, we acquired Maggie.
Maggie very quickly learned everyone's name and would wait for them to come when I called someone. Even after our cat, Miracle, died, I would call for the cat just to get a disapproving "yip!" and signs of agitation from Maggie. Our family found Maggie's "Don't you call that cat in here!!!" mannerisms amusing.
"Emily, come give Maggie a bath!" would send Maggie hiding behind Clint with a sharp bark at me demonstrating her dislike of my words. She would sit near me nearly constantly but would listen to everything going on in other parts of the house. If she heard something she felt she needed to be a part of, she'd cock her head back and forth a few times and eventually go investigate. If she wanted me to check something she didn't like out, she'd walk back into the room, look at me in a certain way, and then walk back to where the issue was. If everything was good, she'd sit with me again.
She really did not like it when a cat sneaked into the house and loved to "tell" on them because she knew we would put them out. When she was very happy, she would dance with happy little feet that would tap-tap the floor. I called her "Happy Feet" and my "Little Tap Tap."
When the mood struck, she would lay flat on her stomach with her front and back legs spread eagle and push herself forwards and backwards on the industrial mats we had on the floor to scratch her belly. She would do the same thing outside on the small gravel in the driveway which filled those curls with dirt and earned her another bath. I could ask her if she wanted a back scratch. She'd eagerly stand in my lap with her belly against my chest, and I'd give her one.
Maggie was a local celebrity! Everyone who saw her loved her. She was ooo'ed and aww'ed over everywhere we went. One older lady became so excited when she saw Maggie, that she shouted loudly, "OH!! It's a POODLE-POODLE!!!!" So, we called Maggie "Poodle-Poodle" at times too. Everyone who saw Maggie thought she was a puppy because of her size. They were almost always shocked to learn her age. People loved to pet her and give her treats. She even rode around with our neighbor in his motorized wheelchair like she was a queen.
What a life she lived! She stayed in luxury vacation resorts, went to beaches and walked in the surf, barked at wild horses on those beaches, climbed mountains, hiked trails, took in scenery in national parks, visited many hotels, stayed in several different homes, kept me company on job sites, and visited several states. She walked in forests where few venture and stayed in some very rustic historical cabins. She hunted and explored with us. She partook in meals taken home from fancy restaurants. She enjoyed being with us when we ministered to others and was a delight to have around during those times. She loved children and not a one ever drew back from her. Instead, we had to keep them from grabbing her!
Whatever was on my plate is what she ate. If I offered her dog food, she'd look at me like, "Dog food is for dogs. I am not a dog!!" Once she was older, her teeth were so few that I had to cut up her food for her too.
We had scheduled her appointment to be spayed, but she came into heat much earlier than they predicted. We were unaware of it. That was the only time I can remember her missing. I could not find her for an hour. We figured out later that she bred with a chihuahua through the fence. Maggie was extremely resistant to nursing the two puppies, one white and one black, and constantly begged me to let her get away from them. I'd do what I had done with other reluctant new dams, but it wasn't working with Maggie. I finally had to leave her with them alone in a building on our place for about 24 hours. When I came back, she was finally letting them nurse. She did her duty, but once they were weaned, she never went back to them. We promptly spayed her afterward that litter was weaned.
The fact that the chihuahua had championship bloodlines did not help one of the puppies be more attractive. In fact, it was the ugliest puppy we have ever had on our farm! Clint's cousin, Amy, took that puppy, named it "Sugar Butt," and loved it until the day she died from COPD. That dog is now living with one of Amy's closest friends.
About a year and a half ago, I noticed Maggie was slowing down. She was sleeping more. More recently, she sometimes didn't want to get out of bed in the mornings. I'd shut the bedroom door and let her rest. She'd bark when she was ready to start her day. We thought it was normal aging. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn't. Then, a few weeks before she died, she was sometimes asking for help getting up and down on the bed. Again, we thought normal aging. I still expected many more years with her because poodles can live to be quite old. I have a couple of friends whose poodles lived to be 21 and 23 years old. God had other plans for Maggie and me.
Maggie was given to me during the hardest time I have ever lived through. She was a great comfort to me. I have had many, many pets in my lifetime, but I have never had as close of a relationship as I had with any of them as I did Maggie. She was very sensitive to my emotions and could read me with a glance. I could be reading a troubling text with bad news about a friend, and she'd see something had changed within me. If she sensed I was upset, she would run to me to comfort me. Her mannerisms were different than at other times too. If I did not calm down quickly, she would wince her eyes at me over and over until I spoke to her to let her know I was OK. She fulfilled her duty to me faithfully for 12.5 years. I honestly believe she was a gift from the Lord because He tells us all good gifts are from above. Maggie was a very good gift in my life.
I am very thankful to my sons Brandon and Joshua who did what needed to be done so I didn't have to do it. I could have, but Lord knows how much I didn't want to experience that. She was in a good amount of pain, and there were signs that her body was starting to shut down. She hated the vet and the delays between leaving for the office and her final rest would have brought her unnecessary stress and suffering. My family agreed with me on that.
I let my sons know I needed them. Joshua was sleeping, but he was beside me in less than 30 seconds of me sending the text. Brandon prepared for what needed doing and was there in less than five minutes.
Brandon gave her immediate rest, and Joshua buried her. My sons had to take some time to themselves before they could come back inside the house. Joshua wrapped her in one of Bethany's shirts and placed her beside a pecan tree Bethany gave me for Mother's Day. I am also thankful to Caleb who offered to come home for my benefit. I told him to stay at work. He traveled to where I was later to tell me how sorry he was in person. (Later in the day, I went to our vacation getaway for some time alone with the Lord.)
Clint was working in a place where his phone had no reception, so he did not know until after we had buried her. He took the next day off to spend with me which was very sweet of him. Amanda was working, and Bethany was in Chicago. Emily and Hannah were at home with me. I would have preferred to give everyone in our family an opportunity to say goodbye to Maggie, but it would have not been in her best interest. Her comfort was my main concern.
Maggie gave us her heart until she ran out of heart to give. She spent her life comforting me. That very happy little dog brought us all so much joy! Before I let her go with my sons, I caressed her in my arms one last time, thanked her for being such a great little pet, and told her I would always love her and miss her. I kissed her soft cheek. There was not a dry eye in our home. Sometimes the right thing to do is the very hardest thing to do. Losing her hurt all of us more than we imagined it would.
I am very grateful God allowed me to have Maggie fill my arms when my heart was aching the most from the many baby losses. Maggie-Doo was so very perceptive, responsive, smart as she could be, and quite spoiled. While I miss her very, very much, I am trying to focus on giving thanks for such a precious and unique relationship with a four-legged creature. As I've mentioned before, I've had many, many pets over my lifetime and had wonderful human/dog relationships with them. Not one of those relationships even remotely compares to what I had with Maggie. Much of the time, it was like she knew what I was thinking before I thought it. She seemed personally designed for me and the time I went through. I honestly believe this was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of deal, and I am sad it's over. I miss my sweet little poodle.
While my eyes grow misty, I look back on that time with Maggie and think, "WOW! That was special and a lot of fun! I'd love to do that all over again!"
I also learned at Maggie's passing that I am definitely a poodle person. That is my favorite breed. Maggie, my poodle, was an amazing creation given to me by a loving God and a sweet husband.
