Maddie Grace 2009-2022

 

This morning we left home as usual for church.  We tend to scan the yard for the pets, something we've gotten accustomed to doing now that they too are mostly senior citizens.  I'd petted Rufus and Misu when I went out on the front porch to feed Misu.  I didn't see Maddie.  It was already warming up, and I was pretty sure she'd be in one of her cooler shady spots.  

We found her on the patio when we came home.  She looked to be sound asleep, but something told me that she wasn't.  John was sure she was, but he'd stopped the car just the same and whistled, called her name, but there was no response.  He got out of the car to check on her and I knew I'd been right because she didn't stir...

 And so, we said our goodbyes.  

Sam brought over the tractor to dig her grave.  Bess came by to say her goodbye and hug John hard.  River came and laid her great head on my knee and whimpered as Bess and I cried.  Katie came by later and brought Caleb, the ultimate distraction.  

In 2009, John agreed to accept one of the puppies from an abandoned pregnant dog that one of his former co-workers had rescued.  I'd been lobbying for a proper watch dog.  We had Trudy who sang her joy to us when we arrived but who was also inclined, if fancy took her, to jump into the car of any stranger who came here.  It was the morning I went out on the back porch after mopping the kitchen floor to dump my mop water, dressed in my nightgown, and discovered three grown men standing at the back steps unannounced, that I called John at work and told him, "Get me a dog that will bark!", once I was safely indoors and they had gone away.  

When his co-worker announced they'd have puppies in a few weeks and asked if anyone wanted a dog, John said "Yes".  

After the puppies were weaned, John went by after work to see them.  He didn't get a chance to decide which he wanted. Maddie took one look at him and came running.  Who knows?  Maybe a man in a uniform was her penultimate dream of her future owner.  Maybe it was because his eyes were blue like hers.  But she ran to him, he reached down, and she wrapped her paws around his hand and John, being the dispassionate, controlled, unemotional sort that he is (ha!), said "I'll take this one."

So, he brought her home.  "Here's your barking dog," he said to me and passed off a ball of fluff that looked anything except protective.   

Trudy was hurt and scorned us for weeks.  Katie fell in love with Maddie and Maddie adored Katie, but it was John who had her heart from start to finish.   Eventually Trudy decided that someone had to teach Maddie how to be a dog and it might as well be her.  She'd reprimand, she'd train, she'd play with her.   As Maddie grew, she quickly started pushing Trudy out of the way when John came outdoors.   Trudy would sigh and wait patiently for her turn to be petted and loved but she was still Alpha dog and she made sure that Maddie understood that.

She grew up into an easy going, engaging dog.  And she did bark.  She barked every time a car came into the yard.  She made it clear that it was her duty to protect this place.  She never went after anyone in an aggressive way.  Trudy was Alpha but Maddie was protector. 

She saw Trudy through her passage of life and waited patiently beside her when Trudy could no longer walk uphill in one trip but had to rest.  She stuck right by Trudy's side to the end.  She didn't grieve her passing, though.  

Maddie didn't wander about once Trudy was gone.  That was how she changed.  She stayed close to home.  She took her guard dog duty seriously.  When the grandchildren began coming to this house to visit, Maddie gently greeted each one with a wagging tail.  The children loved her dearly and "Maddie' was one of their first words.

We noticed the white creeping about her dear old face and the increasing tendency to be set in her ways, the way must of us old folks are.  In her aging, she was more stubbornly for John.  She tolerated me.  I was necessary only because I tended to her needs of food, water and comfort.   That was okay.  She'd always been John's dog, not really mine and towards the end she increasingly made it clear that what was true at the beginning was truer than ever.