“Lord, you play a hard game
You know, we follow every rule.
Then you take the one thing,
that we thought we’d never lose.”
May, 2009 starting our relationship.
Madison came into this world on March 12, 2009. She came into my life eight weeks later and changed me forever. When I first saw her she was playing with her littermates, she stopped and ran to me, talking all the way. We knew immediately that we wanted to share our lives together. I changed her name right away - officially to “Madison” but she responds to Mads, Maddie, and Madison Marie.
In those minutes she showed a trait that would stay with her all her life. Madison talked – a lot. She has a unique “Arwoo woo woo” sound that she vocalized at every opportunity, and just about anything could be an opportunity. The talking could be annoying at times, and I would tell her to be quiet. I would give anything to hear it again.
For our first few months together I could not get enough of her. We were together constantly. We went to puppy school, then to obedience school, and we learned how to be perfect companions. I watched with joy at her every new skill and new adventure as she grew and matured. Over the years I came to take for granted those things I love most about her. It’s as though I thought we would last forever.
Then - multiple organ failure.
Now, in her last few weeks with me I again cannot get enough of her. We are again inseparable, and I watch with joy when she can run, eat a full meal, or raise her head for me to pet her. The things that I took for granted are unspeakably precious again. I want to be with her all the time and I savor every last moment we share.
Maddie, May 2022 - not feeling well at all.
Epilog:
We knew we would have to say goodbye soon. We thought it would be difficult to decide the right time to let her go. In the end there was no question. She was so sick, her beautiful brown eyes had lost their gleam – we knew it was time. We took her to Dr. Lauren, who put a port in her right leg. She asked if we were ready. I petted her, Vicki held her for a bit, I kissed her, and it was time. The first injection put her to sleep in less than a minute. She was sleeping peacefully in my arms and I could feel her tired heart pounding against her ribs. Lauren gave her the second injection. The pounding in her chest stopped. Lauren listened to her and told us she was gone. It was 9:35 AM July 9, 2022.
Vicki and I sat with her for a few minutes, took turns holding her. Then it was time to leave her for the last time. A technician came in and picked her up. I kissed her on the head and called her my Sweetheart one last time – and she left us forever.
Good-bye my sweet girl. I hope you enjoyed our ride as much as I did.