Today my family's dog, Maggie, died at the age of 11.
She was a fantastic dog; the best ever.
My mom brought her home, out of the blue, during my senior year of high school. A woman had her in the driveway of the home where we all went for music lessons. It was love at first sight and my mom snachted her up, without even telling my dad. She was a little fuzzball pup then, with floppy ears. As soon as I can scan one of those pics I'll show you -- irresistible.
Maggie was a happy dog. She loved her family most of all, but second best she loved rocks. She loved to chase them down the hill behind my parents' home. She had a great nose and could find a small stone in the middle of those woods.
After fetching rocks, Maggie loved:
-running in the snowy woods
-going for hikes
-grabbing the back of your leg with her front paws if you tried to walk away when she still wanted to keep playing
-laying at the window watching birds
-medium sized rocks
Toward the end her kidneys started to go. She was in quite a bit of pain, couldn't eat b/c her teether hurt, and when she did, couldn't keep it down. But up today she would still run up and down that hill in search of rocks. This morning she was showing signs of internal bleeding and my parents made the decision to let her go before she suffered too much more pain. I'm told that at the end she seemed peaceful, curled in my mother's lap.
We'll miss you Mags! No other dog could ever fill your place.