Goodbye to Maddie

Well, we put Maddie down today. It's a funny thing losing a pet. I mean, if I had a dollar for every time I thought or said an unkind thing about that dog, we'd have enough to cover all her final vet bills. She was kind of a grouchy dog, extremely possessive of her food and her "stuff," prone to snap at the other dogs and the kids. I don't think Maddie was anyone's favorite pet.

She actually came into our lives under rather strained circumstances. Kevin was working mall hours, I was working teacher hours, and we barely saw each other. He got it into his head that we needed a second dog and had been looking at rescued bird dogs online for awhile when he found Maddie. He showed me her picture, and I had to admit she was a cute little dog, what with the spot over her eye and all. But I really didn't like the idea, and strongly discouraged Kevin from pursuing it. When I went on the high school retreat for three days, he drove to Chicago and picked her up. I wasn't exactly pleased.

Maddie at her "foster home" the day Kevin got her

I swear Maddie had nine lives. Within a year, she climbed on the counter and found and ate an entire tube of Gorilla Glue. She and our furniture were covered in the stuff. Worse, the glue she ate expanded in her stomach into a football-sized rock. We refused the ridiculously expensive surgery, and watched her nearly starve to death. Then one day, she threw it all up, and was just fine. The only other time I remember Maddie sneaking something off the counter was the next spring, when she ate an entire box of paczkis overnight. I don't know if paczkis can kill a dog, but I almost did!

Maddie had more energy than any dog I've ever seen (which is why, when she barely got out of bed the last three weeks, we knew something was wrong.) She would tear in circles around the backyard, chasing birds and squirrels. Many, many times, I saw her "tree" a squirrel. She would stand for hours barking at it, until it would give up and jump out of the tree. Not many escaped unharmed. Maddie could also jump over the 4-foot fence in our backyard in Lansing, which was just really annoying.

I guess her energy is what made her a good hunting dog

But what I appreciated about Maddie was that she knew she was a dog. Connie has forever believed that she is a human, and darn it, she deserves to do human things, like sleep on furniture! Maddie, though, was happy to spend her hours outside or in her kennel. She was the one dog who didn't try to sneak upstairs or onto the couch. And she had some endearing qualities. Like, she liked to drink beer, and it made her sneeze. Now, we never actually let Maddie drink beer, but she would sit and lick empty bottles or glasses. Crazy dog.

Maddie walked into the living room like this one day

She loved sweets, too, and not just paczkis. Here, the dogs are gazing longingly
at my s'more.

She also went nuts when the heater came on at our Holly Way house (huh--she and Annie might have something in common.) She would run into our room and sleep in the tiny space under our bed because it was next to a heater vent.

Under the bed and dreaming

So yeah, Maddie was just a dog, and not a super lovable one, at that. Yet, the adults in this house haven't stopped crying on and off all day. (I won't say who cried the most.) Because after all was said and done, she'd lived with us for almost nine years. She was, I say reluctantly, a member of the family. This afternoon, Kevin and I spent time looking waaaaay back through pictures, and it was funny to remember that pre-kid time when the dogs played a central role in our family life.

Maddie gave me a Valentine gift one year

And then the kids came along, and there she was.

The time Kevin let the girls paint the dogs. Nellie always, for no known reason,
argued that Maddie was "her dog"

Nellie also loved to give the dogs baths.
Sidenote--this particular picture was taken right after she cut her own hair.

Family hike in the U.P.

If you look closely, you'll see my dad with DJ (wearing a bright orange hat) on his first hunting trip

And now she's gone. The kids are fine, of course. Nellie was sad, but immediately perked up when she realized it means she gets to get a cat sooner. Annie thought we were joking for several hours. We were actually at a loss trying to figure out how to convince her that the dog was gone. And DJ just kept asking, "Mommy still here? Connie still here? Chief still here?" and so on.

So, goodbye to our just-a-dog Maddie, who wasn't just a dog, really. She was a witness to our lives for eight years, and they've been eight great years.