I wasn't sure what else to do, so I posted some photos of our family dog, Maggie (aka Miss Maggie Moo, Mag, the Moo, Miss Moo, and Magabond). My mom called me this morning at about 9:30 to tell me that she was at the vet with Moo. It was "time."
The family talked a lot about this day. Moo has had health problems for awhile (a heart murmur, a really bad back--which she has been getting acupuncture for since she was eight years old--in addition to just old age). For about a year, every time Sarah and I visited Ohio to see my mom and grandma, we said good-bye to the dog convinced it was the last time we would see her. This time it was. The last time we saw her was Easter.
We had Maggie since she was seven months old. I was 11 when we took her home, Sarah was nine. We had her for about 16 years. She was the kind of dog that makes you think that you have the best pet in the world, that no other dog could possibly have as sweet a personality or disposition. It was impossible not to love her. Everyone loved her. How could you not? Scroll down and look at that face. People still mistook her for a puppy even when she was well into her teens.
I'm not really sure what else to say. This was the family dog, but she was really like my mom's third child; Mom often referred to Moo as our sister (not in a weird crazy dog woman way, but in a the dog is part of the family way). This was my mom's burden, her decision, and I know she struggled with it. Mag had a very long and happy life.
It's going to be weird to go home without her there.