Maggie and her meat

Maggie and her meat cigar Originally uploaded by manogirl.

I finally have proof that you can't go home again. Today, I went to my mom's house before we were to go out to dinner, and the reality hit home. Maggie is gone. She was put to sleep a week ago, now, and I guess it hadn't hit home. I still kind of expected to see Maggie's fuzzy little face when I stopped in. I still expected to hear her whining.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not sad. Well, not sad exactly. I feel kind of bad. Not bad enough to cry, but bad. It's just kind of odd to think that the dog from my childhood is gone. It's like I'm throwing behind me all those things that made me a kid, and Maggie's death sort of confirms that. I have to admit, by the end of her life, she was an annoying little thing, but she loved us, and all of us in our way loved her. Sometimes, when I think of getting a pet, I think it would be better if I didn't, because the end of that pure kind of pet love hurts somehow harder than you think it will.

I feel the worst for my mom, who became closer to the dog than any of us. And I'm the bad daughter, because I didn't send her a pet condolence card. She knows I feel bad for her, and that I'm sad. And now I'm telling her in front of the entire world that I'm sad for her and us. Poor Maggie. She was a good dog.