Run On, Maggie

My mother told me that when I was 18 months old she found me in the front yard, surrounded by dogs, screaming my lungs out. I don't remember the incident, of course, but she always pointed to it when trying to explain my fear of dogs.

I was afraid of dogs up until several years ago. The change may have been caused by age setting in, but I prefer to believe it was Rooty.

Rooty Rootbeer, the brown Labrador puppy we bought Scott after having to put his beloved Magnum down, changed the way I viewed dogs - animals, really. Before Rooty, I never understood the depths of animals' personality differences. I never realized they had personalities. Before Rooty, I never realized animals have souls. The night Rooty and I knelt, nose-to-nose, was one of my many epiphanies. I looked into his eyes and, instead of simply seeing two brown cylindrical blobs, my eyes delved deep into his eyes........and I felt his soul. I didn't see it, really, but the feeling was so strong that it felt like I was seeing it, if that makes any sense.

We had to give Rooty away when we moved to Corpus Christi for what ended up being a short time. We moved into an apartment and they didn't take big dogs. I think the loss was greater for us than it was for him, though. He went to a grand couple with a big swimming pool and a lot of acreage who love Labs. Rooty was a happy camper.

Next came Woody, a pound dog I actually picked out, and then Maggie. Maggie was a black Lab, given to us as a friend for Woody. Gabby, a Boxer, came a little while later. Woody is an enormous dog, as sweet as he is huge. He's my kind of dog - kind of slow and easy, not much for prolonged activity. Maggie, on the other hand, was full of energy. She loved having Gabby come to live with us when Jessica and the kids figured out they couldn't handle her. Gabby was as energetic as she was......perhaps more so.

To make a long story at least a little shorter, Maggie and Gabby loved getting out of the fence and exploring the neighborhood. Woody would always get out, too, but refused to venture any further than the driveway. As you've undoubtedly figured out, getting out was Maggie's undoing. Even though Scott was finally able to absolutely secure the fences, when we started construction on the new garage they took the opportunity to find new escape routes. We understand that they were prancing across Golf Course, Gabby leading, when Maggie was hit by a motorist, who I would give anything to meet - only I can't find out who he is. From what I understand, this young man was terribly upset and I would like to be able to hold his hand and let him know Maggie is OK.

Maggie was taken to our Vet's clinic. She couldn't move her legs or tail. I was in Dallas and didn't get to see her, but Scott visited every day. There was a chance, at first, that her spine was only sprained and that she'd snap out of the paralysis. By the fifth day, however, we knew the damage was permanent. I was home by then, but couldn't bear to see her. I knew we'd have to put her down, and I wanted to be there when we did, but I couldn't bear the thought of seeing her laying down, eyes searching mine, wondering why she couldn't wag that tail.

The good news is that Maggie, evidently, didn't feel any pain. When we went in on her last day Susie brought her into the room and we patted her and loved on her.......and told her everything would be all right. When we were ready, Susie came in with a syringe and administered the shot that would free Maggie's legs from their unmoveable positions. Within seconds Maggie relaxed, layed completely down, and was at peace. As we emptied our tears and our hearts, I could feel Maggie's spirit lift and run. In my spirit's eye I could see her, tail wagging, running through tall grass headed for the trees beyond. I could feel her happiness, as she found herself perfected. I found myself almost able to laugh with her.......except my heart was too full. I knew she was happy, but I knew we would miss her.

I'm glad I had the opportunity to find Rooty's soul all those years ago. If I hadn't, I would have never experienced Maggie's joy as she passed. Dogs do have spirits. I know they do. And I know Maggie will be there to greet me, tail wagging, as I pass on to the other side. In the meantime, run on Maggie. Run on.