VEGGILANTE: A Busy Girl's Guide to Vegetarianism

Maggie arrived on Christmas Day in 1996. After all the presents had been unwrapped, and the trash thrown to the curb, a mysterious cardboard box appeared in our sunroom. Curious, my brother and I went in to investigate, realizing upon closer inspection that the box produced movement and strange scratching sounds. Opening the box cautiously, we discovered a small, blonde ball of fluff. It was Mag. And she was a full-fledged family member from that day forward.

From the moment Maggie entered our home, she entertained us, consoled us, and infuriated us. Devouring whole hams and sticks of butter off the kitchen counter was not unusual for her. Neither was going into the dirty laundry and displaying underwear to guests; swimming clear across the Delaware River in pursuit of ducks; or sneaking out of the yard to waltz into a neighbor’s back door and eat a whole tray of cupcakes. Yep, that was our Maggie at her finest.

I know everyone believes their dogs are one of a kind and, to some extent, that’s true. However, Maggie was the type of dog that everyone in town knew, everyone had a story about, and everybody loved. Even the frequenters of the local bar knew her, from when she would sneak out to grab a late-night snack. It’s a miracle no one got a DUI driving her home at 2 a.m.  

For all her crazy antics, though, Maggie had a level of compassion that she showed very rarely. When I had my tonsils removed last August, I was in intense pain for days. Despite her often debilitating arthritis, Maggie, who was by then 11-years-old, made her way up the steps, struggled onto my bed, and laid with me while I slept. She hadn’t forged those steps in years. It was as if she sensed I needed comfort, and she made it her mission to be the one to give it.

It was those rare, delicate moments I’ll miss the most about my Maggie May. After a long, spoiled, adventurous life, she left this earth on November 4, the day before her 13^th birthday. Coincidentally, I watched Marley and Me for the first time a couple weeks ago and I cried more than I ever have at a movie. I cried because I know what it’s like to have a crazy, wonderful yellow lab; to go through every life change with them; to watch their bodies slowly deteriorate; to know it’s their time, but want to be selfish and keep them around for just a little bit longer.

We had to let her go, but I hope she is up there in dog heaven, roaming the streets till the wee hours of the morning and eating all the ham, butter and cupcakes she wants.

Rest in peace, Mag. You will be missed by all. <3