Never Even Knew Her Name

“THE MOST MILD-MANNERED ANIMAL ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH”

by OPOVV, ©2014

(Nov. 17, 2014) — I remember it was the middle of summer, little more than two years ago, and it was as hot as blazes. I had a couple of outdoor projects going, so I was hard at work at 8 am, and that’s when I first saw “The Big Black Dog” trotting by, heading due west. It looked to be well-fed, so I didn’t give it a second thought until, at five that afternoon, here it comes again, trotting east. This schedule went on for a week when one day I decided to make an offer of a dog treat and some water. The dog veered away and kept on going.

The next day I tossed a dog treat in her path and once again, she veered and kept going. It wasn’t until the 3^rd day that she took the time to stop and sniff the dog treat, and then she picked it up and off she went, with the treat in her mouth. A couple more days passed by the time she stopped and ate the treat, but she wouldn’t wash it down with the water that I set on the side of the road while watching from the front porch.

The next day she ate the treat and drank the water, with me in the house. The day after that, she ate the treat and drank the water with me standing on the front porch, and for the next week I slowly moved the water dish closer and closer to the front porch while I worked on my projects.

One day it looked like rain and I asked the “Big Black Dog” if she would like to spend the night in the laundry room, and it was there she slept for the next week while spending her days checking out the yard.

A friend called her Maggie but we knew that wasn’t her name; I just referred to her as “The Big Black Dog.” I took Maggie to the vet to be checked for a microchip, but she didn’t have one. She had worms and an ear infection which we cleaned up. She liked baths. She was the most mild-mannered animal on the face of the earth. Never a mean growl or a bad bark. Why, she’d be eating her food and a cat would walk up to her dish and she’d just back away, not saying a word.

Two weeks after that she moved to the living room, and then, a week or so later, she made it into the bedroom, sleeping at the foot of the bed.

Another couple of weeks went by until she moved to my side of the bed, and that’s where she slept, every night, for the next two years. I’d lay watching television, remote in my right and scratching behind her ears with my left.

Every morning we’d go for a walk, and every evening, too. Right on time: set your watch by it, if you kept time by a sundial, that is. While I got ready for the morning walk, I’d let her out and there she’d be, waiting for me, with her tennis ball in her mouth, the one that she’d carry during her walk and, when we got home, she’d place it in a corner of the front porch, and repeat the process for every walk.

One morning walk last week, Maggie went into the woods and clawed out a clearing and wouldn’t budge. I sat next to her and held her head in my lap, telling her what a good dog she was and reviewed how we got to know one another, and that, as soon as she felt better, we’d go to the dog park and nature trail and have a real good time.

That day I took her to the vet. The vet said Maggie is an old Black Lab, at least 10 years old, maybe 13, possibly older. I gave her one of the pills when we got home and she improved immediately, and kept on improving, so much so, that I kept my promise and off to the park we went. She ran in front, and every 30 feet she’d turn her head to see if I was still there and keeping up with her. I’d say, “Good dog!” and she would smile and run for a few steps and then revert to a healthy walk. It was, without a doubt, the best walk ever. She was so happy, tail a-wagging 60 mph! Good dog!

That was yesterday. This morning, when I was getting ready to go for our walk, I let her out, expecting her to be there waiting for me while I got my stuff in order, the ball in her mouth. Well, when I went out, no Maggie. I looked around and that’s when I saw it, the tennis ball, in the corner, right where she put it the night before, and that’s when it hit me. I walked around back and found her underneath the deck, laying in an area that she clawed out. The feeling of seeing her there all alone reminded me of the end of the movie Hachiko.

She gave me more than I ever gave her, and I wish I did better, but I’m glad she came into my life and I hope to God that her last two years were good for her.

I crawled under the deck and her eyes were still opened. I looked her in the eyes and said, “Good dog,” and touched my nose to her nose, and then, at that moment, she sighed for her last time, closed her eyes, and Maggie, “The Big Black Dog,” died.

OPOVV