On Friday, October 28, 2005 Maggie (de la Coterie) Rue finally left this mortal coil.
After 17 years I learned to love and have been loved like I would never have thought possible, had I known it even existed. Together we shared and I was silent witness to some of her difficult first years.

Driven purely by a sense of responsibility I took Maggie to me and we tried to start anew. Though it was long, and the past was never forgotten, she thrived and we grew together. From an idyllic country life for a dog we moved to the city. Leash walking and curbside evacuations were a new skill learned and eventually enjoyed. Uprooted again we entered a city like she'd never known, and living in quarters like she'd never had to encounter. This was not a happy time and soon a move to a place with grass and trees alleviated the hardship.

Life wasn't as easy now, being an elderly dog and we knew it was soon to end. People came and went, were loved and disappeared. Places we lived, things we did, came and went, changed and renewed. Yet there was one constant in her life as there was in mine. All who had the chance to get to know her soon came to love her. Her stubborn willfulness, incredible intelligence and intense devotion made her the special creature she was. Was it too late? Was she too old? We added another to our family and she remained the stubborn, willful, and now bossy, bitch she aspired to be. Yet, no longer did we think her time was limited. A new lease on life, a new role to fulfill: Boss of Chase. Old, arthritic, pancreatitis prone, bumpy, lumpy crone - that was Maggie and she was happy.

In our life together there were times when she needed me and I was there (see me in slipper and robe, flat out on thin Spring ice scooping her out of the fast river with a spade - the hour we subsequently spent together in a tepid tub); there were times when I needed her and she was there (see her leaning on me, kissing me, as I sit through nightfall and dawn, unmoving, night and day learning to deal with a grief unanticipated and difficult). The last few years her health changed and we learned new ways to deal with issues no longer able to be resolved medically. Anesthesia no longer an option. Antibiotics no longer an option. Hearing almost completely gone, vision a dim remembrance of light. Some solutions work. Some work for a while and then stop. Some are just as bad as the medical for her or our senses (Shark cartilage anyone?). No longer able to have treats, just the same old "grumpy old fart dog food" day in and day out. Periodic bouts of being unable to manage stairs meant learning to trust a little bit more as carrying her (once not an option) up and down became necessary. Happiness when she discovered that fleas (her first ever encounter last year) preferred her young sister's flesh to her thick old skin. I thought, we will be fine as long as her heart stays strong, her teeth still work well, and she is relatively regular.

Then came the fast growing tumours and, the final straw, one in her foot making walking quite a painful feat, and in her jaw (eating issues) added with the ones growing throughout her system. I could have had her undergo an operation (no anesthesia) to remove her toes, buying her a couple of months.

How does one make a decision like this? She is the thread that connects me from my 20's to middle age. She brought me more than companionship - she was a thread of love that ran through my life, helping to make me who I am. Once a proud proclaimer of "not a dog person", I learned much about tolerance, patience and love from her. Maggie was (and will always be) a part of me and she will be missed for as long as I live and remember. Her last week was one of visits from her friends, special outings and many, many treats. She shared my bed as she had done when she and I were young and alone together. She left this world easily and in loving arms. After her heart stopped her special song was sung, and I stayed in contact with her body until it was certain she was no longer in, and then some more. My whole being grieves for the loss of her companionship, her love and her spirit. Her presence filled my life and now there is a hole where Maggie belongs.

I miss her.