This morning I woke up imagining I could feel Maggie’s warm body pressed against the back of my legs. This is where she slept in my bed- in that angled area where my knees were bent. She’d curl up, and on cold nights I would cover her in a light quilt. This morning, I had my mother’s old quilt bunched up over a heavy book that made it to the foot of the bed, and I imagined this mass to be my vivacious, insatiable, delightful and gorgeous Springer Spaniel. Upon fully waking, I cried for a few moments.
I miss her every day. Maggie would wake us up right at 7, let us know it was bed time right at 9, kill squirrels with a speed we didn’t know an 11 year old body could possess, and run in the sun until we figured that one day she’d just die of a heart attack doing her favorite thing. She was my mother’s morning run companion for years, and helped her get back into running after my mother was in a terrible car accident. She mercilessly killed my sister’s parakeet once, and she would run away on us while we were hiking, only to find us hours later, covered in mud and smelling awful. She got filthy in the winter mud, and we would have to carefully wash every one of her paws in warm water to let her back into the house. She loved unwrapping presents and she knew she was important. I’ll be damned if I ever forget her slightly funny looking tail or the way she shook with excitement before we went outside, or how she would stalk a bird with perfect form. How when I came home from 5 months in Switzerland she would get so excited and spent about 5 minutes just smelling all the new smells I had brought back with me.