We are dog people.
Our family members have included an assortment of versions of the canine variety through the years. All have had names starting with M – Muffin, Magnolia, Molly, and Megan. Then came Maggie. The rescue dog who captured our hearts and filled our empty nest with a different kind of love.
Maggs had her own unique personality, but she was a perfect dog for us. We loved her unconditionally. And she was devoted to us in return. As long as she was with us – sleeping in our bedroom, watching tv in the den, on trips to the lake – we all felt complete.
I could only imagine how lonely we would be without her.
Maggie came to us when she was five. She was scared of her shadow, but her tail wagged vigorously for us. She didn’t care much for other dogs, or other people if they were standing (sitting was ok). She came when we called her, unless there was a scent of interest enticing her away.
She was strong and fast. Our previous dog had suffered from bad hips and digestive troubles, and her last days at 11 years old were tough. Megan had been an outside dog, and Maggie was definitely not. So we knew Maggie would be different.
But she wasn’t.
Yet, when she was 13, we didn’t mind carrying her up the stairs, giving her joint medicine, even diapering her at night. We were content, as long as everything else was comfortable for her.
But it wasn’t.
Maggie began to have digestive issues just like Megan had. She wouldn’t eat the food she had always loved. Eventually she wouldn’t eat the soft food we had changed to. She was shrinking before our eyes. Her bones stood out and her steps were slower and more hesitant.
We had numerous trips to the vet, lots of uncertainty, loads of tears. What was best for our sweet baby? How can love hurt this bad?
Maggie left us just before her 14th birthday. I like to believe she is running free in a better place, But I still look for her here, and I see her sweet brown eyes in my mind. I can imagine the feel of her silky ears, hear her toenails on the wood floor, smell the popcorn scent of her feet when she slept.
Since we are dog people, we will one day get another pup. We can only hope to be so blessed to have another little friend with as sweet a soul as our Maggie.
She wouldn’t want us to be alone.
fireflytrails 
We lost our little Possum eight years ago and I was devastated. With an empty nest and a cross country move, I was so,lonely. I told my husband no more dogs. That loss is just too great. A year later he convinced me to adopt a rescued lab mix puppy. Our Lily has become our constant companion. I don’t think I can ever be without a dog again.
It is always hard to say goodbye to our fur babies. Sounds like you loved her very much. While you may get another, no dog replaces another dog’s place in our hearts.
What a tribute to Maggie. She sounds like a wonderful dog – and you describe the heartache of letting go of a beloved companion. A new dog will be a good thing, but Maggie will always be special.
I am a huge dog person myself. We have three! There’s nothing in the world like a good dog – one of life’s great gifts, in my opinion. My thoughts are with you as you mourn your precious Maggie, and as you plan for your new addition. I am glad you will get another puppy; so many need a good home, like yours.