May 30, 1999 to February 9, 2008
 

We received this heartfelt tribute from Arlene and Paul Mechetti on February 9, 2009.

Maggie left us one year ago today. I wrote this then but am submitting it now. She was a Golden+. And to think we almost didn’t keep her . . . . .

It was a warm, Saturday morning, July 10, 1999, my 55th birthday. My son, Wayne, then 22, called and asked if he could stop by with my birthday gift. He was known in the family for giving the most unique and wonderful presents so I was excited and curious to see what he had for me. A little while later, there was a knock at the door. When I opened it, there sitting on the porch between Wayne and his girlfriend, Rosella, was an absolutely adorable, 10-week-old, Golden Retriever Puppy—my birthday present. They stepped in and the puppy scrambled up the step. I was so surprised that I could barely speak. There were so many thoughts running through my head. We had lost Bruno, our Beagle/Fox Terrier mix of 17 years, the previous March and we were just beginning to think about getting another dog. We had a list of possibilities: a rescue mix from our local Humane Society, a career change from Guide Dogs, perhaps a yellow lab, but a Golden Retriever? We hadn’t even considered that breed, though we had known some from the dog park and had admired them. After all, that long coat would require lots of upkeep and the shedding.

The kids had named her Simba (after the little lion in Lion King) and she stuck to them like glue. Rosella was from Peru where her family raises Goldens. She had been there for a visit and from a litter she chose the sweetest, lightest color, female to bring back to the U.S. for herself and Wayne. Simba had been with them for 2 weeks. They soon realized that a puppy that was going to be large very soon, in an apartment with the nearest grass at a park a block away, probably wasn’t going to be very fair. Bingo! We will get her a good home where we can visit her and solve the birthday present for mom all at the same time. I was a little dismayed with my son because I thought he was raised to know that you don’t give someone a gift of a puppy. I told them that they would have to find another home for her, that we weren’t quite ready to get another dog. They looked so disappointed, I felt terrible and ungrateful. They asked if I would keep her for a few days while they found a good home because it was difficult to have her at the apartment. I agreed but made them promise to be looking. They had started her potty training so I continued with that over the next few days. She caught on so quickly, I was amazed. My husband would give her a cursory pat but avoided too much love and attention, not wanting to get overly attached since she would be leaving soon. She had a little cough so I decided to take her to the vet for her next set of shots and to check the cough, knowing the kids didn’t have much extra money and I wanted her to be healthy when she went to her new home. The vet prescribed an antibiotic for the cough to be taken over the next ten days. Well, I decided we better keep her until we finished the antibiotic, so she would be staying at least 10 days.

On her fourth day with us, my husband was standing in the family room talking to me and Simba went over and lay down across his feet. My heart absolutely melted and I said to him, “She is so sweet, let’s keep her.” He said “Yes, let’s keep her” and he swooped her up and began kissing and loving her. In hindsight, I realize that it was never our decision. On that morning, she chose us, and a love affair was born. We decided that Simba was not the right name for such a sweet little girl so we changed her name to Maggie with the kid’s permission. From that day forward, there was no looking back. We always told our son over the years that he never had to give us another gift – Maggie was the gift that kept on giving.

We settled in with training classes and she always made us look so good. At Puppy School, Family Dog 1, Family Dog 2 and Tricks class she was, without exception, the star. The instructor would remind the rest of the class often that it wasn’t that we were such accomplished trainers but that her breed was so eager to please. She seemed to know instinctively what we wanted and she did it after just one or two attempts. We trained her to retrieve our morning paper. I took her out two mornings and put one end of the paper in her mouth and walked her inside holding the other end. On the third morning she brought it back on her own. The Sunday paper was always fun. Because it was so large, it came in a plastic bag, rain or shine. She soon learned that it was easier to pick it up by the end of the bag and drag it up the step and into the house. On occasion, she would get the wrong end of the bag, the paper would fall out, and she would try to bring in all of the different sections. Soon there would be paper everywhere but we could only laugh at the sight. She was so perfect. She never chewed our belongings, jumped up on our guests, or dug up our yard. She was very mellow from day one. She waited patiently for our time and then she had a ball.

Over the next 8 years and 8 months, all of our plans revolved around including her. We are fortunate to live in a very dog-friendly county (Marin). There are many wonderful walks and hikes where dogs can be off-leash Maggie never strayed far from us and continually checked to make sure we were behind her. If she got too far ahead, she would either stop and wait for us to catch up or come back to us. On the few occasions that she lost sight of us she would run around looking very worried until she found us. All of you who have Goldens know the extreme pleasure of being owned by one. They have a special joy and spirit about them. Though every moment with Maggie was special, we have what I call “snapshots” in our mind of extra special moments. The first time she was playing along the shore of a lake and she realized she could swim—the sheer joy of it is unforgettable. A snapshot of her running through a patch of yellow flowers trying to catch little flying moths and learning that if she carried her dish to us and begged with those beautiful, soulful eyes, that we would put a little something in it. The first time she experienced snow was really memorable. Finding a tennis ball on nearly every walk we ever took, we decided that if everyone carried a little piece of tennis ball in their pocket, in the event of a disaster, they would be found.

We could count on one hand the days we missed taking her out on an adventure. Rain or shine, we went out every day for long walks with her cousin Netta who came to live with us two years ago. Her favorite trips involved water, whether running through the marshes with her best friend “Millie”, creek walking through Miller Creek or Samuel P. Taylor Park, swimming in the pond and walking the Waterfall Trail at Indian Valley, playing in the surf and sand at our many bay and ocean beaches, or just jumping in a big puddle, it was a joy to watch her enthusiasm for the smallest things. It humbled us and made us grateful to be a part of her life. When we were sad, just being with her gave us a huge lift.

The coat I mentioned earlier as being too difficult to keep up was never a problem. I loved the time I spent brushing and combing her and running my fingers through her beautiful silky coat —it was better than any therapy. A few times, when she got full of stickers, she would pull out the ones she could reach and my husband and I would tackle the rest, never minding at all, happy to be doing this service for her. Every morning I would take time to love and pet her and I called that time a “mini-vacation”. There was something about it that was soothing, relaxing and help set the pace for the day. The softness of her ears is forever etched in my memory.

The shedding, as well, was never a problem. As I was cleaning up today, I found myself hoping that those traces of hair would never, ever disappear completely. They are a reminder that she was here not so long ago. The Golden bunnies will gradually be gone, but never our memories of her.

Yesterday we put her to rest after a horrible, but short, battle with cancer. She was well until recently, when we started noticing her stamina was changing. We couldn’t walk as far or as long. She had a few episodes of vomiting and diarrhea and then they began to increase. A vet visit found a large tumor in her abdomen. They took two needle aspirations that showed necrotic cells (dead cells). The only way to find out what was going on was to do surgery and take out the tumor. They operated two weeks ago, took out a large tumor in her intestine and found several of the lymph nodes enlarged. The pathology report came back Lymphoma. The vets were specialized in treating cancer (we are fortunate to have them one mile from our home) and recommended that we let her heal from her surgery (two weeks) and then start chemo. She had a few good days about a week after her surgery and we were so hopeful, but then everything started going downhill quickly. She was feeling so sick that we decided not to do the chemotherapy but the oncologist talked us into trying the first week (of a five-month protocol) to see if she responded at all. In our hearts, we knew that she wouldn’t, she was just too ill. Bless her heart, though, she tried so hard to keep going. She received one chemo injection and they started her on prednisone. The next day she completely collapsed, she could not get up at all. We had promised ourselves that we would never let her suffer, no matter how difficult it was for us to let her go, and now we felt we had waited too long. We don’t know if she was in pain, she never complained, but it was clearly time. It was the weekend so it was difficult to find a vet to come to our house and we didn’t want to take her back into a vet office. We made her a big comfy bed in the back of our Jeep. Our local Humane Society was wonderful and their compassionate and caring vet came to our car to give her the injection. The sun was shining; it was a warm, beautiful, Saturday morning. We held her and told her how much we loved her, how much joy she had brought us, and how we would never forget her and would cherish all of the wonderful memories of our time together. She slipped peacefully away. She came to us on a beautiful, warm, Saturday morning and left us on a beautiful, warm, Saturday morning.

We drove her to a pet cemetery/crematorium in Napa. Never having been there before, we wound our way to the top of a mountain. This had to be one of the most beautiful spots on earth—a lovely pet cemetery overlooking Napa Valley with incredible views of the vineyards and a perfect little chapel to make the arrangements and spend some time thinking of her. We had her cremated so that we can keep her with us.

It is hard to believe there could be so many tears, so much loss and so much sadness. She won’t be there to greet us at the door with a toy, to take up most of the bed—which we never minded, to lay her beautiful head in our lap and to enjoy life with such sweet abandon.

We only had her for 8 years, 8 months and 9 days but every minute was special. We take great comfort in knowing that we gave her a really happy life.

And to think, we almost didn’t keep her . . . . .

Godspeed Magster—you touched us in such a profound way, we will never be the same without you.