It’s a cool winter night here in the desert.  I’ve got the heat up to 72 degrees.  I don’t want Maggie to shiver so much.

Maggie is my dog.  My dog is dying.

The inevitable is happening. We didn’t think it would or at least not yet, but it is.  Maggie has always seemed to bounce back, but today, it’s been different. Tonight, we know she is dying. 

Death is so weird. It stinks.  This Pet Check Up site says that, “Although we know death is an inevitable part of life, there is really no way to adequately prepare ourselves for the passing of a loved one, whether human or animal.”

I didn’t think I’d be so sad.

Maggie came into our life, because Jenni really needed a puppy. She didn’t like Arizona. She didn’t like leaving her friends. She didn’t like life, too much. 

Maggie helped change things for Jenni.

Maggie helped change things for us.

This Pet Check Up site also says, “Yet, if we choose to be mindful, even in their passing, we will discover that our animal friend continues to teach us precious lessons about love, trust and living in the moment.”

I hadn’t thought that Maggie would teach me something about life, trust, dying and living in the moment.  I feel too sad to think about what she might be teaching me. 

She is helpless. I feel helpless.

The Pet Check up site says that it’s good to be near them as they die. It says that we can help them through the process and that our presence can make them feel comfortable.

I hate pain. I don’t want anyone to suffer. I hate suffering.

My sweet dog is dying. This article also says that whenever possible, let your pet die in a natural way and to let them choose their place.

How natural is death? The body shuts down and all that you knew and know is subtracted. I hate subtractions. I never was good at subtractions or geometry.

Maggie did choose her place.  Michael found her this morning in the kitchen. Makes me wish I hadn’t been so irritated with her in times past, because she kept getting under my feet in the kitchen.

We have chosen Maggie’s place. She’s near my husband’s place at the dining room table.

What will I miss? Maggie laying near my feet. Maggie greeting me at the door. Maggie wagging her tail with total acceptance.

I’ll miss watching Michael play with her and talk to her and think she never was going to die. Today, tonight his mind is changed.