First, there is Margaret aka 'The Moo', or ' The Mudskipper', who came into our lives through a series of incidents all designed to drive us crazy. It is a long and sordid story, but the upshot is that we wound up with a little brown dog who had been found rummaging for trash in a fairground. She wasn't expected to live, but live she did, and she was our treasure. The Moo was a neurotic with easily pushed buttons but we loved her to pieces, and she loved us beyond all reason. She would drop everything including food to get hugged and stroked. Margaret was a love sponge and we did our best to keep her nicely drenched in it.
The day she died as a result of kidney failure, was so hard that even now I have trouble looking squarely at it. Every sadness for the twenty prior years came to head in that particular moment of her passing and I grieved to the bottom of my soul. Margaret wasn't a just a dog. Margaret was family that we loved and the hole she left will never be filled.
|Margaret's last photo.|