Maggie was the runt of her litter, and her brothers and sisters almost chewed he tail off before we could get her. It took months for the hair to grow back in.  Maggie stole the heart of everyone that met her. She was beautiful, energetic and friendly. She smiled and made others smile with her. We travel for work, and Maggie was a classy, hotel-living dog. All the staff loved her.  They'd take her out and play with her if they cleaned the room while we weren't there.  

     Her favorite treat was ice. We couldn't open the freezer without her running from anywhere in the place to sit patiently and wait for her piece of ice. She loved to hover near the kitchen while we cooked, and dart in if we dropped anything. She ate anything we gave her while chopping vegetables, and especially liked carrots. If a doorbell rang on tv, she jumped up to see if we had company. She learned new words in a day. She piled her toys together and lay on them while chewing one.  

     We crate-trained her as a puppy, but she became so trustworthy that we left the door open all the time. Still, when we'd get ready to leave to go somewhere, she'd stand in her cage because she knew we were leaving, and she was getting in her place.

     She loved snow - loved playing in it, rolling in it, eating it, burying her head in it and flipping it up into the air. 

     She was fast and she turned on a dime. Her best dog friend was Grace, a pit bull, who was much faster, but tired easier.  I called Maggie my little cutting dog, because she could change directions so fast. Grace would get mad that she'd catch up to Maggie, but then Maggie would turn and be gone again.

     When Maggie got excited, a line of hair raised on her back from the back of her head to the base of her tail.  

When she got comfortable, she made the sweetest little umph groaning sound when she settled down to sleep. I listen for that still.  When she stretched out on the floor, she stretched her back legs behind her so I called her my frog-dog.  

     For others who are grieving as much as I am, look for Eugene O'Neill's "The Last Will and Testament of An Extremely Distinguished Dog." I'll leave you with my favorite passage from it: "Dogs are wiser than men. They do not set great store upon things. They do not waste their time hoarding property. They do not ruin their sleep worrying about objects they have, and to obtain the objects they have not. There is nothing of value I have to bequeath except my love and my faith. These I leave to those who have loved me, to my Master and Mistress, who I know will mourn me most..."

     Her days with us were far too short, and I hope that I can one day be the person I was in her eyes.  

     Rest in peace, Maggie Maggles Pooperhead Razorback Frog-dog, who loved us and whom we loved.