More about Maggie

She's really funny at times.

Back in the days when teenage Matt needed to get out of bed and didn't have an alarm clock or a clue, I used to send Maggie to get him. I'd take her to his bedroom door, and encourage her to nose it open. He was always glad to see her (probably a lot happier to see her than he would have been to see me) and she felt very proud when she had accomplished her task because we all made a big deal of her. It turned out to be an easy thing to teach her. After the third or fourth time, all I had to do was tell her, "Go get Matt." and she'd run to his door, tail whipping madly, and just shove it open.

But how do you get her to stop?

Short answer? You don't.

Long answer?

Because of whatever cosmic forces direct us (let's call them CF), we ended up with a dog who is just like we are.

CF decided to give us a dog who stresses and obsesses. A creature of habit. Another person in the house who has to have things a certain way. A family member who worries. Incessantly. At this point, I am inordinately pleased that at least she doesn't hoard clutter.

Now, when she thinks it's time for Matt to get up, she goes to get him. She shoves on his door until it opens. Or, if he remembers to actually close it until it latches, she shoves, gets disgusted when it won't open and snorts as she walks away, only to try again in a few minutes. Over and over. And over.

If Eric isn't home, she worries. She paces the floor. Click click click with the toenails. Back and forth between the bedroom and the living room. Click click click. It makes me insane when I'm trying to nap. I have to put her out of the bedroom and put in my earplugs.

If the whole family isn't home, she worries, too. She just doesn't pace as much. In the afternoons, when three of the four of us are out and about, she sits by the door and whines to go out. Then, she whines to come back in. Then, she whines to go out again. Drives Lyssa insane.

Because she's getting old, we have had some crap incidents. She used to have no problem knowing not to poo on the porch, but for some reason (our theory is just that she's old and decrepit and doesn't want to walk so far) she thinks the bricks are a good place to dump occasionally.

And there are some indoor control issues now, too. It's like she wants to get outside... but doesn't quite make it before dropping a bomb. Or two. So far, the only one I stepped on was small, mostly dry, and I was wearing shoes. Still grossed me out to have to grab a paper towel and pick it up. Eww.

That was a lot easier than what Eric had to go through when he stepped in a big wet one next to the bed. First thing in the morning.

Nice wake up call.
"Good morning, Master. I have left a lovely crap next to the bed for you."

I was glad to escape to work at six AM that day. The smell of dog shit was overpowering.

Maggie obsesses over food. She loves it. Whatever we're having is what she wants. She does get some table scraps, but not until we're done eating. Or until we get around to feeding her.

She gets an aspirin in her meals. She can't take Rimadyl, the go-to arthritis drug for dogs because it's toxic to Labs, and as near as we can tell, she's at least half Lab. Baby aspirin made her barf. So we put Bufferin in her food twice a day.

I can hear those of you who either don't have a dog, or have a normal dog, saying, why don't you just put it on the back of her tongue and massage her throat until she swallows?

Hollow laugh.

Let's just say her will to spit it out and not let us win is much stronger than our desire to stand there and make such a puny and feeble attempt to get her to take a damn pill.

We used to put it in a raw hamburger ball. Made four or five of the same size, and tossed them to her to catch. But she figured it out. And started very carefully chewing up the balls of hamburger, then unceremoniously spitting the aspirin out on the floor. Then it became impossible to get her to eat hamburger at all. Think about it. How many self-respecting dogs do you know that won't eat raw meat? Or cheese. We did the same thing with cheese, but she caught on even faster.

Bitch.

So whatever food we heat up for her to eat gets an aspirin dissolved in it. I don't think it makes her food taste particularly good, but if she wants to eat (and believe me, she does) she will eventually consume the aspirin.

Maggie snorts a lot. If we send her out of the room when we are trying to cook, or because she's simply underfoot, she makes a disgusted sound. And does it several times as she goes to her designated 'dogs OUT' spot.

If she doesn't like being told to move or go outside or be nudged out of the way, she does the whole disgusted snort thing.

She pants. If she's hungry and we're eating, she pants. Like she's just roasting... too hot for words. If the leftovers have not yet been put away and are left out on the top of the stove, she will pace back and forth, panting until the possibility that that food is for HER is past. Panting and obsessing go hand in hand for her. Or paw in paw.

She lies next to Eric's end of the couch and plays a game with him. You know the Snoopy dance cartoons you've seen? Nose in the air, ecstatic unashamed joyous dancing? Well, she does that with her face. She looks up and strrretches her neck at him. And he goes to grab her face and kiss her on the nose and she whips her head around to escape. And then she'll stretch up again. Just asking him to play with her.

She sneezes. When we come home from wherever we've been, she is excited to greet us. And sneezes repeatedly. If she's lying down and suddenly needs to sneeze, she draws her lips waaaay back and looks so funny.
:D

Then, she will sneeze four or five times and bash her nose into the floor with each one. It has to hurt, but she just does it again and again. We can't help laughing. It really is funny.

She no longer wrestles, but she and Eric used to really get into it. She barked and growled and spun in circles. Ran in crazy patterns through the living room, toenails shredding the carpet. (I've mentioned before that we bought this house solely because the carpet was already dirt colored... so the carpet damage doesn't really worry me at all.)

Again, we're waiting until we no longer have a dog to replace furniture and flooring.

She's affectionate. She likes to greet us with exuberance, then walk up and jam her nose between our knees and gently wag her tail while we scritch her and make a big deal out of her. Tell her what a good girl she really is. After that, she usually requires a little nap. Because she's old.

So the older she gets and the more she slows down, the more I keep hoping that we won't have to make a decision to have her euthanized. That one morning we will just wake up and find that she died in her sleep. Not that I want her to go, but I know it's going to happen someday. And it would be an easier thing for me than to have to make that sort of choice for her.

Wow, I said a lot about my dog. I could write another three posts about her, I think, but won't subject you to it.

I bet you can understand why we all love her, though.