My friend Kate wrote me a sad note yesterday.
“We had a lot of sadness over the weekend. Mae Mae went to the vet to have her teeth cleaned and they wanted to do a simple operation to open up her nasal passages so she could breathe better. She developed a blood clot and died of a heart attack. Our hearts are broken.”
Before my four-legged, fuzzy boy Aw’gy came into my life, I had no idea about true puppy love. Hadn’t a clue about how much a dog could lift my spirits.
Some mornings in Las Cruces, we’ll walk over to the desert near my house. I’ll let him off his leash and can’t help but smile as he takes off after a bunny he’ll never catch. It’s sheer joy seeing him run with abandon, hind legs taking over front legs, his tail-end kinda off to one side. I curse myself when I can’t find him, swearing I’ll never again let him on the leash to chase rabbits. Who am I kidding?
It’s good for both of us. Aw’gy is an awesome buddy. He loves the car, craves walks every day – a super side-kick and co-pilot on our road trips.
Kate learned the joys of dog ownership long before me. She and her husband Doug have rescued several Pugs over the years but Mae Mae stole Kate’s heart. Mae was nice to Doug just long enough to win a place on his couch, but he said she dumped him as soon as she was adopted and the Pug Queen quickly worked to supplant Doug in their kind-size bed.
Mae Mae ruled the roost – demanding and getting all the love and attention from her mamma. She got love and gave love in equal proportions. And while I understand there’s a Pug puppy named Bella who’s snuggling her way into Kate’s heart, there can never be another Mae Mae.