Today my friend and baby dog, Madeline Suzanne, died. She came into this life with spunk, lived it and died in the same manner.
A vet told me after she was adopted and weighed less than a pound that he didn’t give her a fifty-fifty chance to live. She beat his odds and went on to live an eleven-almost-twelve-year life all-be-it with challenges.
My shoulder puppy made me laugh and she made me cry. She gave me the best hugs I’ve gotten except from my daughter when she was a baby and now from my grands occasionally. I could always count on Madeline to light up my life.
Some years ago, I mentioned that she had a big heart. Within a week I found that she really did and that’s what took my beautiful, intelligent baby.
After her death today, I saw her painlessly bounding across fluffy, white and dark clouds. She’s no longer confined to back legs that hurt and a body that keeps her prisoner.
I’ll miss hearing her name even though it’s me saying it. So, I’ll continue to call out to her just as I have my father and brother until I can no longer speak.
She’ll be missed. She already is.
I love you, Madeline.