Wayne Weekly “Digging Life”

I dug the hole deep. I suppose that way no critters ever will “get curious”.

Maggie Olivia was 16 years old. She was a West Highland Terrier, known as a Westee. An independent, often times moody, family pet. I purchased Maggie from a pet store in a mall. I was given some kind of papers for her breeding, but they seemed pretty questionable in appearance and information. My guess is that our new family member actually came from a “puppy mill”. She had a heart shaped nose with a slight split down the middle. Our vet wondered if she started out to be “two”. That probably was an off the wall comment, but interesting.

Maggie Olivia was often called by us Maggie “Olive”…I guess for fun and because “Olive” seemed to fit her personality better than “Olivia”. As any family pet…she became one of us. I recall a good number of her toys throughout the years, “the vermin”, “Blue”, “the Captain”, and Rita Rolodex. There may have been more, but those I remember the most.

Maggie loved her back yard, our pop-up camper and camping trips. When she got older she was a bit snarly, but we attributed it to sore bones and her being “an old timer”.  We loved her.

Strange how humans can love their dogs. They are faithful, they are fun (usually), and at Christmas they get presents. So much joy and companionship. God gave us dogs.

She died under the vets care right at home, in her own back yard, under a favorite shade tree. We held her and kissed her, and dripped our tears on her. She went limp and the vet shook her head when I asked if Maggie was gone.

I dug the hole deep…cutting out blocks of turf to be put back over the ground. I carefully sprinkled the dirt over her little white body wrapped in her plaid blanket. Our Maggie would no longer bark at strangers or romp in the back yard, or snuggle with us. But she made us happy in life, and now has left us with the happiest of memories.

Wag, wag.

“A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast…”

Proverbs 12:10