The only way Ginger and Maddux slept next to each other.
I’ll never forget the day I took our 12-year-old black Labrador Retriever, Maddux, to the vet for what I thought would be a quick diagnosis of a mouth sore. I was sure that I would be sent home with a prescription for antibiotics, and Maddux would be feeling better in no time.
But as the vet began to examine Maddux’s mouth during the visit, our normally brave dark-eyed pup let out a loud yelp. He was obviously in a lot of pain, so the vet decided to sedate Maddux so that he could take a better look at what was going on.
“Ahhhh...Here’s the problem,” the vet explained, as he was finally able to take a look inside. “Maddux has a tumor, and it has completely taken over the back of his mouth.”
“Okay; so what does that mean? He’ll need surgery to remove it?” I inquired.
“No,” said the vet. “Unfortunately, he is too old for surgery.”
“Okay…” I stared at the vet blankly. “I don’t understand. So what does this mean?” I insisted on a better explanation - one that involved words that would explain how and when Maddux would be feeling better.
“Unfortunately, he doesn’t have much time left...this tumor appears to be growing very quickly. He may have about two weeks at the most,” the vet concluded. “I’m so sorry. Just call us and let us know when you feel like it’s the right time, and we will make the necessary arrangements.”
“Wait, what? What are you talking about?” I inquired as my heart beat rapidly and my eyes welled up with tears.
“Maddux has about two weeks to live? How am I supposed to determine when it’s really time?” I sobbed.
“You’ll know,” the vet continued. “The drool will get worse (Maddux had a thick, slightly bloody and odorous steady stream of drool dripping from one side of his mouth), and he won’t be able to eat or drink much.”
I just stood there. I was so confused and was in complete shock. I felt like I was having an out of body experience.
I didn’t even know what else to say or ask. I just let the vet wake up Maddux from his sedation, and I wiped away my tears. My three young boys were in the other room, waiting for me and our sweet pooch to return to them with a good report, and I needed to put on a happy face.
But when I gave my report to the boys, they knew right away that something was wrong when they saw my tear-stained face.
I told them that Maddux was very sick, and I would try to explain exactly what was happening to our furry family member after I had processed the entire situation for myself.
As I went to sleep that night, I couldn’t stop crying. How was I supposed to know when it was time to let go of Maddux? Why was this our decision? What if we never knew when the time was right? Or worse - what if we let him go too early and there was another course of action that we could have taken to help him get better? The questions kept swirling in my head, as well as the memories...
Maddux was our first baby. My husband and I picked him out from a litter when he was about eight weeks old. He had a tiny little white spot on his chest, so we knew he was special. The breeder called him “Morning Star.” But we had already had a name picked out for him.
With both of us being Braves baseball fans, we knew that he had to be named after our favorite Braves pitcher - Greg Maddux. The name suited the newest addition to our family.
Maddux was a loyal dog. He was there for us in good times and in bad, always wagging his tail... always by our side.
I’ll never forget how he slept on the bed next to me and stayed right by my side during one of my complicated pregnancies. He’d rest his head on his paws, but he would still find a way to look up at me with his dark eyes...one eyebrow up, then the other...alternating his eyebrows as he checked in on me. And when I reached out to pat his head, his tail would thump on our mattress so loudly that it sounded like someone knocking on the door.
Speaking of that tail...it was like an otter tail. Pick up your drinking glasses or the coffee table would be instantly cleared in just a couple of wags.
Maddux lovingly embraced each one of our children as they came home from the hospital. It made me laugh to think that we played soft music for him while letting him sniff our firstborn’s baby blanket before entering the house, so as not to stress him. Oh, how our pooch was pampered.
Over the years, chaos ensued as more children became a part of our family. The children tugged Maddux’s ears and sat on his back when they were babies, before they knew any better. They rolled on the floor with him and scratched his belly as he would roll over and stretch - getting what we called a “love fest.” And they learned to run with him and to throw him a ball.
Our children adored Maddux, and he adored our children.
Our Vizsla - Ginger, however, was the first one to truly rock Maddux’s world. When she came into the picture Maddux was only about a year old.
Ginger sat on Maddux while he slept, if she did not feel like sleeping. And then she would inch her way under his arm when she was ready to sleep. They would lie next to each other, the best of friends, night after night and day after day.
Maddux was a shoe stealer and a pillow stealer...even a pacifier stealer at times. Yet, he never actually chewed on anything he put in his mouth; he we would just carefully hold it. We would always laugh when he pranced around the house, wagging his tail as he showed off his prize.
These memories played over and over in my head that night - memories that brought tears to my eyes...memories that warmed my heart.
How could the vet ask me to let him know when I felt like it was time? How could I ever be ready to make the decision to take my best friend’s life away? This just didn’t make sense to me.
I truly didn’t know how to proceed as the days continued. I just kept asking God to please give me a sign so that we knew when Maddux was ready to leave us.
What I did know was that I wasn’t going to take a single moment that I had left with “Mr. Pooh,” our nickname for Maddux, for granted. So he received hearty helpings of wet dog food. He went to the beach and swam in the pool. And he continued to get his long walks.
When our neighbor, who walked Maddux for me daily while I was teaching, told me that he was still enjoying his long walks, I was hopeful - thinking that maybe it was some sort of miracle. Maybe he had taken a turn for the better.
After all, he was still eating - maybe not as much as before, but he was eating. And he still loved his walks, even though he seemed to be a little weaker in his back legs. Most importantly, he was still wagging his tail. He had plenty of time left with us, I thought. The vet doesn’t know what he is talking about, I told myself.
And then, the next morning, I was up at 5 a.m., getting ready for school. Maddux ate a little bit of food and drank some water. He greeted me with his regular morning tail wag and “hello” and then suddenly dropped to the floor and began to have a seizure.
Maddux had had seizures before, but this one seemed different. I got on the floor, held his head and body tightly, and screamed for my husband to come downstairs. As Maddux trembled, I just kept crying and saying to him, “Please don’t go this way. Please let me say goodbye. Please, please, please.”
I thought, right then and there, that Maddux was leaving us. Suddenly, he stopped shaking and slowly got to his feet. He was panting and wagging his tail, but he couldn’t walk in a straight line and kept bumping in to walls.
It was time, I had decided. This was my sign.
It was not fair that I was keeping Maddux around for me and my family. He was in pain, and he was not well.
We waited until the sun came up. I called work and told them I wasn’t going to come in. And when the boys woke up, we explained that our old pup really wasn’t doing well, and it was time to say goodbye. They kissed and hugged their furry friend. And while they shed many tears and it was difficult, I knew that what they needed right now was the routine of their school day.
I kissed the boys goodbye and sent them off to school, asking the teachers, principal, and guidance counselor to please keep their eyes on them and to make sure they were okay throughout the day.
Then, that moment I had been dreading for a long time was staring me in the face. It was time to make arrangements for Maddux’s passing.
We had already decided that, if we were blessed enough to have the option (we realize that this is not always an option for all pets and pet owners), we would say goodbye to Maddux at home. The thought of him leaving this world on a cold veterinarian’s table just made me too sad.
So I found the number my sister-in-law had once given me. It was for an organization that would perform at-home euthanasia. The company was called, “Lap of Love,” which is a nationwide practice dedicated to home based veterinary hospice and euthanasia. We had heard wonderful things about this organization.
From the moment I had to make the phone call - sobbing the entire time as I gave the woman on the other line my information - to the weeks after Maddux’s passing, the people at “Lap of Love” were professional, patient and understanding.
While I understand that no one wants the details of the passing of a pet; it’s just too sad. I will tell you that when the time came to get ready to say goodbye, Maddux was on his favorite bed, staring out his favorite window where he used to chase squirrels. My husband was petting him, and I was petting him. And even his best bud, Ginger, inched her way under him so that he could lift his arm and put it over her like old times.
The woman who was sent to our house from “Lap of Love” was so understanding and patient. She gave us all the time that we needed to say goodbye to the first addition to our family.
And when I finally had the courage to say, “Okay, I’m ready,” I stared into “Mr. Pooh’s” sweet, dark eyes, and I whispered to him that he would soon be chasing many, many squirrels and that he was the best dog ever.
Mine were the last eyes that Maddux saw as I said, “I love you so much,” over and over again. He knew I was there. He knew my husband was there. And he knew his best friend, Ginger, was there. And all the while, he was on his favorite bed, in his favorite room, staring out his favorite window.
The weeks and months following Maddux’s death were not easy for our family. There were many, many tears, and we all had trouble sleeping. But “Lap of Love” continued to check on us during the weeks that followed.
And today, memories continue to keep our furry friend in our presence. We find old dog toys in the yard that remind us of him. We stumble across old holes that Maddux had dug, even in his old age, that remind us of him. He loved our butterfly garden and watching the kids jump on the trampoline. So just looking at the butterfly garden reminds us of our sweet, old boy.
And it isn’t just memories that we have left of “Mr. Pooh,” but “Lap of Love” also provided us with tangible reminders of our pup. We were given a clay impression of Maddux’s pawprint, and the boys were each given a stuffed dog - adorned with angel wings and a bell collar. The boys continue to sleep with their stuffed dogs each night, which were all appropriately named, “Maddux.”
Saying goodbye to “Mr. Pooh” was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. But every time I think about how blessed we were to have had the opportunity to say goodbye to him the way that we wanted to - in the comfort of our own home - I can’t help but smile, thinking that Maddux is looking down on us, panting his happy dog smile, while wagging his otter-like tail, saying, “Thanks, Mom and Dad. I love you too!”