A couple of days ago, our Meg died suddenly. It was a shock to our family. It still is. One minute she was running around outside and the next she was dead. The vet thinks it was either a heart attack, stroke, or brain aneurysm. I think it might have been the aneurysm because I noticed an unrecognizable red fleck in her eye when trying to "wake" her up.
She was ten years old. Next month she would have been part of our family for ten years. Even though she was ten, I just didn't expect her to die for a few more years. No decline in health at all. Just our regular ole Meggers. Running, playing, barking, sneaking food, etc.
I'm grateful she didn't suffer. I'm grateful she died doing what she loved best. I'm grateful I didn't have to watch her decline. I'm grateful she has been released from her tripod of a body. (I picture her running like she used to when we lived in Cali. Maybe she's playing with Ellie?) But it's dang hard that I didn't get to say good-bye, throw her one last ball, and give her one last hug. The last two days have been tear-filled. Today has been better, thankfully. I know it will get easier, but the emptiness our family feels right now is difficult and knowing we won't ever find another sweet dog like Meg is difficult as well.
Yesterday I spent over an hour looking through pics of Meg. (Thanks Kerri for watching Ezra.) Tons and tons of her until Ezra was born. A major decline after his birth. I guess three children did throw me somewhat of a curve ball. I'm thankful for pictures and how they have allowed me to process her life and remember her impact on our family. I have been reminded of the good and the bad. Let's start with "the bad" first.
I will not miss:
*her stinky bloopers.
*her poop.
*her propensity to chew on things. When she was a puppy she chewed on parts of our brand new table and chairs (and more) and recently would chew on the kids' toys.
*her barking at the doorbell.
*her sneaking food off the kitchen counter. Too many times to recount.
*her bad breath.
*her whip of a tail.
*her digging. Yes, even with only one leg in front she could still dig.
I will miss:
*her companionship. She was there for me when times were so tough only Eric knew. Eric asked her to take care of me, and from that day on she did. If I was severely depressed she somehow knew and would come from nowhere and be by my side. I'm really going to miss that feeling that even if no one else cared, Meg did. I guess I have an extra guardian angel now.
*her sweet demeanor. Aside from her tail, there was not a mean bone in her body. I never worried about my babies crawling on her. They would pull her tail and fur and she would remain patient with them.
*the sense of safety she gave to me. Even though she didn't have a mean bone in her body, I felt safe with her. If a stranger walked by or she heard a strange sound she would bark her deep bark in warning. I felt safer when Meg was with the children outside. She loved them and seemed to keep "tabs" on their whereabouts.
*playing silly games with her.
*her "frapping."
*her love of the water.
*her soft ears.
*her sweetness.
*her head tilting to the side when we said, "Do you want to go on a walk?" or "Do you want to go see Ellie?"
*her resilience.
*her unconditional love.
Meg was a great dog and deserves to be mourned over. I miss her terribly and am thankful to the
unconditional love she gave to our family.
LOVE AND MISS YOU, Meggers.
One of the first pics taken of her after Eric brought her home from the Santa Ana Animal Shelter when she was two months old.
One of the last pics taken of her less than a month ago at age ten.