Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Maggie

Told by Melinda Kulick

My old Pug, Muggs, was very old. Weekly visits to the vet were not as effective as the year before. Dr. Wen let me know, Muggs did not have much time left.

"How will I know when it’s time?" I asked. Dr. Wen’s eyes were sad. He knew we adored Muggs. "When his tail stops wagging and he can’t eat for three days. You’ll know." My friend Jill heard how sick Muggs was and encouraged me to get another Pug. “You can’t be Pugless,” she’d exclaim. I resisted, and countered with, "How can any Pug replace Muggs? I don’t think I’ll ever want another Pug."

Jill, in her wisdom, let Marcia of Compassionate Pug Rescue in FL, know that her friend "might be" interested in a Pug. Marcia told Jill, a young female Pug named Baby had come into her hands just recently. Marcia thought Baby just might fit the bill. Marcia e-mailed Jill a picture of Baby. Jill phoned me all excited to tell me that, “This is not a pet store quality Pug, it’s not often Marcia gets such a good Pug." Then Jill forwarded the photo to me and when I opened the attachment – the Cutest Pug face was looking right into my eyes. I burst out in tears – "She’s mine. I know she’s meant to be mine." I called Jill up all excited and Jill vouched for me to Marcia that I am a true Pug-0-phile. “What will you call her?” Jill inquired. "Maggie, her name will be Maggie!" I said. I printed out her picture and when Don, my husband, saw her and how excited I was he agreed I could go and adopt Maggie (formerly known as Baby). This set into action a trip to FL.

The trip down to FL was a blur. I had a wonderful evening with Jill’s parents, who took me out to dinner. That night I met wonderful, warm Marcia. It was decided I could stay at Marcia’s house the night before I was to return to New York. I couldn’t wait to meet Maggie, I hoped she be as lovable as Willa - a pug Jill’s Mom had adopted from Compassionate Pug Rescue. I could not imagine a Pug as cute as Willa. She danced and screamed a special food song for her dinner and secretly I wished I had been the one to adopt Willa. But, honestly, to see how Willa was doted on tickled me. I knew she was with the right owner.

When I finally got to Marcia’s, I sat nervously in Marcia's living room, awaiting my new adoptee….when bounding down the stairs came an exuberant Pug, mixed in with about five other Pugs. Most of these Pugs were much older and owned by Marcia. Maggie not only flew by me – she completely ignored me – she proceeded to jump up on every chair and leap from chair to couch then raced in the kitchen, back out and up the stairs. A few seconds later this whirling dervish was back down the stairs racing around the room like a Tasmanian devil. My heart sank. Not only was my poor old Muggs literally on his last legs, my husband was ill with cancer. How can I bring this hyper-active dog back home with me? How could I subject Muggs and my frail husband Don, to this devil dog? My heart sank, and I squirmed in the chair. My voice almost stuck in my throat as I told Marcia – "I don’t think she likes me. I thought she was the one – but, maybe I made a mistake. She goes to you and ignores me." Marcia smiled and leaned over and patted my hand. "Why don’t you give it a night – sleep with her, then maybe you will bond with her."

"I doubt it I thought," I had a sinking feeling I was going to be going back alone on that plane. “Sorry honey”, I’d say, “we gave it a try, she just didn’t work out – she was too wild.” I had already started to rehearse what I would tell my husband. I was sad I had wasted time and money to be so disappointed by this impish Pug.

Before we went out to a diner for coffee, Marcia assigned me to poopey duty. "Here", she said as she handed me a leash, why don’t you take "Maggie" out for a walk (now mind you before I came down, I had told Marcia and Jill I planned to change the adopted Pug’s name to Maggie. I always promised Muggs one day he’d have a girlfriend. I just didn’t realize he’d be over 90 years old in dog age and Maggie would be like Anna Nicole Smith!) I was uncomfortable with this new assignment, but complied. Maggie walked me – she pulled on her leash the whole time, and I prayed she’d do her business fast. She didn’t disappoint me. She tugged me back home and seemed as glad to be rid of me as I was to be rid of her.

After the diner we came back and once again it was poopey duty. This time I felt a bit like a pro. After our walk I talked for a while with Marcia, but it was getting late and there was the trip to the airport tomorrow. "You and Maggie go up stairs and get a good night’s sleep. You girls can bond." Marcia repeated and gave me that big warm smile.

I settled into bed and looked down at that little Pug. She had finally seemed to calm down a bit. She tilted her head as she looked up at me. She put her paws up on the side of the bed. Then hunched back and sprang up onto the bed with me. A bit surprised and pleased, I made room for Maggie. Next thing I knew she snuggled right next to me…then she managed to maneuver into the crook of my arm and flipped on her back so I could rub her tummy. She made a pleasing snorkeling sound while I rubbed her belly. My heart started to melt – I felt her sweet spirit, and knew new my first impression of her had been wrong. She was NOT a devil, she was an ANGEL.

The next morning Maggie gave me more attention. I could tell her loyalty was divided between Marcia and me. Marcia reassured me. “She was with me for a few days – now she is getting used to you. You’re her new Mom. Everything will be fine. So, how was your night?" Marcia asked, with a sage grin. "Great, I think she likes me. I think she’s really sweet." It was a done deal. I signed the paperwork and we started to get ready to go to the airport.

Jill’s Mom lent me her Sherpa Bag to transport Maggie. When I got to the airport I had trouble at the check in. "That bag is too big," the attendant stated.

"But, it meets all these airline standards." I flashed the card attached to the bag. Just a minute she said and when she came back she had the equivalent of a large lunch box. "This is the size that we allow; it has to fit under the seat." I looked at this carrier that the smallest Chihuahua would have a had time squeezing into. "No way I’m going to put my dog in that!" I insisted. That would be animal abuse. We were at an impasse. "Look," I said, "my ride has left, I have to get back to NY and I’m going on that plane." After ten more minutes of supervisors looking over my Sherpa bag – it was agreed, Maggie and I could board the plane – I had paid extra money for her passage for goodness sake! The trip was miserable.

There was a mean steward who kept trying to shove Maggie all the way under the seat. "You are going to break her bones if you shove her any further!" I snapped. "She has to be all the way under the seat, Maman," he said icily. I saw the mesh pressing into Maggie’s muzzle, so I pulled the bag out just a little bit. The steward walked by again, and proceeded to shove Maggie back under. Of course I had to pull her back out and I put my hand inside the bag to comfort her. I was amazed that Maggie did not whimper, or make a peep – not one bark of complaint. I was impressed. When I arrived in NY I was anxious to let her out of the bag – it seemed an eternity before my bags arrived on the carrousel. My husband Don was alerted that we had arrived and was circling the pick up area. When I let her out of the bag – she proceeded to kiss me all the way from the airport to home with one break where she looked up and over at Don. She put a paw on his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek! He was hooked!

When we brought Maggie in she went right up to Muggs. Nose to nose, both tails wagging. Success! Over the next two months Maggie took care of Muggs. She would put her head under his hind quarters and push him to his dog bowl. She would then nudge him down the steps and push him back up after he did his business. She would then proceed to give him a thorough bath. This he did not always welcome. When Dr. Wen came to put him to sleep she was in the room with us. Only one month later she was in the room when my husband was dying. She sensed something was wrong and went ballistic. To calm her down we just put her up on the bed. She went up by his head, laid as still as a sphinx. She kept vigil with us and was part of the circle of prayer and love that supported my husband as he took his last breath.

Maggie, Bailey and their friend the St. Bernard

I call Maggie the healer of broken hearts. When I laid on the couch and cried the days after I buried my husband, Maggie would climb onto my chest right over my heart. It felt like she was a sponge soaking up my pain. I always felt relief after Maggie did this. I never felt alone, with my little buddy tagging alongside me through every chore in the house. Or sleeping with me, to hear her quiet snore was a comfort. I vowed not to let Maggie be alone like Muggs had been, so I got Bailey, a young black female Pug. Maggie adopted Bailey. Bailey became Maggie’s shadow. Everywhere Maggie is Bailey is right alongside her. At night Bailey uses Maggie as her comfort pillow. They wash each other. Play with each other. And best of all love each other. But, that is not the end of their story. My boyfriend has a St. Bernard, which now thinks it’s a Pug.