I'm sitting at my desk right now crying.
When I got to work this morning, my ex was waiting for me. To be clear, we really don't get along all that great. We talk and tolerate each other because we love our son very very much. I knew something was wrong because he has never done this before. He wanted to put down "our" dog, Magi (pronounced Maggie, but my ex could never spell).
To give you some background, I got married at 22. Other than college, I had never lived away from my parents. On top of that, I was moving to the big crime-ridden city of Cincinnati, from my parents home in Northern Kentucky. If you haven't figured out yet, I have been accused in the past of being dramatic. (Cincinnati is an absolutely lovely city and I enjoyed it the entire time I lived there). My husband at the time worked evenings. I was pretty confident that I was going to be raped or murdered, so I made him go get me a guard dog.
Turns out that this sweet guard dog picked him out at the pound (not the other way around). Magi came home to live with us in March of 1995. She was a sweet 2 month old puppy that our vet called a Heinz 57 dog (meaning 57 varieties of breeds). She had the body of a boxer with the head and coloring of a German Shepard. She had the disposition of a Golden Retriever and the funny herding habits of a Border Collie. Her funniest quirk was that she always had one ear up and one ear down. Noone could explain why, but it was cute. In short, she was an awesome dog.
Magi was 14 now and had stopped eating and was falling down alot. She couldn't get up or down the stairs. The vet had tried talking us out of putting her down about a year ago, but it was time now.
Magi girl, I miss you. But I know you are playing with Charlie and Linsi. I know you're bouncing around like you did when you were a puppy. I know you're not in pain any more. Rest in peace, sweet girl.
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