I've been out of contact for a bit and for that I do apologize. December was a terrible month - holidays aside. We lost our 16.5 year old terrier...who had been my constant companion. I started this post on December 9, my apologies for not getting it done sooner, but I literally just had no more words, plenty of tears, but no ability to convey my grief. Now, these several weeks later it is time for me to attempt to get back in the saddle, so to speak, and get this blog on a regular schedule of timely entries. Forgive my grief and my nostalgia.
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What no one could have known was how difficult these last 10 days have been for me...Thanksgiving aside.
16 years ago, I was given the most wonderful of gifts. A wedding gift. A small little tuft of fur, with one floppy ear, which would later straighten. A little brindle terrier girl we named Maggie. Well...I named Maggie. She was named for Patricia Neal's character in one of my favorite movies..."In Harm's Way" in which she starred with John Wayne. She was to be our dog. She wasn't. She was then and even now at the advanced age of 16 is every bit my dog. And I love her as much if not more than the first time I set eyes on those sweet little brown marble eyes.
Maggie was a unique pup. She loved to bounce and play, but was never really the excitable type - unless you messed with her stuffed animals...or me...then all bets were off. Sweet natured and gentle, she had a long memory. Holding a grudge against Barrett for swatting her as a puppy, lo these many years later would circumnavigate a room...eyeballing him the whole time, daring him to come near. That is, unless I wasn't home, and then he would do, lol. It should be noted that her attitude did not prevent Barrett from loving her too, it just made her a little prickly sometimes and never a day passed where he did not try to make amends...holy terriers are quirky.
We did not know when we got her that we would be joining the Foreign Service and subsequently dragging her all over the planet. But such is the life of a Diplodog, relegated to a cyclical dance of booster shots, health certificates, riding under airplane seats (and occasionally being relegated to the "accompanied baggage hold" so that the temperature and cabin pressure would be maintained at levels safe for her. A merry-go-round of temperate or not so temperate weather, feral cats (the forward scouts of the Huns...in case you didn't know), long car rides and even 4-star dining. Maggie traveled more than many adults I know. In her 16.5 years she visited 7 countries, 4 continents and survived or enjoyed (depending on the trip) a multitude of home-leaves and vacations. She traveled with us everywhere.
So as we say goodbye to 2016, the year I lost my sweet girl, I thought I would share one story that features from Israel.
We had just returned from R&R and had planned on holding a party (my sweet husband's idea) to celebrate Texas Independence Day - March 6. We didn't quite make the day because weather had been rainy and as we were planning on hosting in our garden, we had to be flexible on the date. We had planned on having a tostada party and even shipped in tostada shells from Texas for the occasion. This would be my second big Foreign Service hosting opportunity, but the first one at post. It literally seemed every time I turned around that my husband had invited more people. I tried not to be alarmed and kept marching forward with my preparations.
I should take a moment here to explain something. Tel Aviv, like a lot of Israel, has feral cats...they are everywhere. I have joked on several occasions that if two Israelis are standing in a field...anywhere...there will be a dozen cats. Our sweet Maggie was Cairn Terrier (or Holy terrier, if you asked my father) and as such a bit territorial. While she had been raised in her early life with us in a house which included another dog and a cat, as she aged, her tolerance for any animal that "didn't belong" in her yard substantially decreased. As the weather cleared up, so did the appearance of more cats in her yard - she was not amused and would race after them, fiercely barking until they had been "deported" from her territory. We frequently joked that they did not have the appropriate visas to be in the yard - Foreign Service humor.
As we continued to make preparations for the party, we hauled the large rolling trash bins to just outside the kitchen side door. Almost immediately, we realized we had a problem. The arrival of the trash bins apparently was the equivalent of ringing a dinner bell for the cats and they perched themselves up on the wall above the bins anxiously awaiting any potential delicacies. Closed lids on a trash bin means nothing to these cats, as was proven by us finding the turkey carcass from Thanksgiving at our front door - so we knew we were going to need more than just rocks on keep them out. Additionally, the moment the cats starting lining up on the wall, Maggie would begin barking, leaping up the whole time in hopes of catching an unsuspecting feline's cat or dangling foot. In addition to driving us crazy, we also did not want to drive our neighbors crazy with our obsessed dog's barking.
Finally, the day of the party arrived, as did a solution. As I had already had several run-ins with the feral cats, my brother in Portland, Oregon had sent me a Super Soaker water gun. Knowing that I would never be able to keep Maggie from escaping outside while guests were going in and out, our housekeeper Sinora and I devised a plan. Since Maggie already knew that the cats had targeted the trash, and as the trash would be in relatively constant use from the disposal of paper plates, etc, we were confident that she would alert us if any cats showed up to pillage the dumpsters for food. Once that happened, Sinora would step out the kitchen side door and use the water gun to disperse the cats from the wall. Once peace was restored, Maggie would return to visiting guests and Sinora could return to helping me in the kitchen. The plan worked beautifully. The food was terrific, our guests enjoyed themselves, the Tex Mex food was well received and even better, we did not have to face trash being dispersed everywhere from feral cats - thanks to Maggie with backup from Sinora with a water gun.
A few days later I was talking with a good friend who happened to be The Irish Ambassadors wife, who said, "So, I hear you armed your housekeeper?" All I could do was laugh.
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What no one could have known was how difficult these last 10 days have been for me...Thanksgiving aside.
16 years ago, I was given the most wonderful of gifts. A wedding gift. A small little tuft of fur, with one floppy ear, which would later straighten. A little brindle terrier girl we named Maggie. Well...I named Maggie. She was named for Patricia Neal's character in one of my favorite movies..."In Harm's Way" in which she starred with John Wayne. She was to be our dog. She wasn't. She was then and even now at the advanced age of 16 is every bit my dog. And I love her as much if not more than the first time I set eyes on those sweet little brown marble eyes.
Maggie was a unique pup. She loved to bounce and play, but was never really the excitable type - unless you messed with her stuffed animals...or me...then all bets were off. Sweet natured and gentle, she had a long memory. Holding a grudge against Barrett for swatting her as a puppy, lo these many years later would circumnavigate a room...eyeballing him the whole time, daring him to come near. That is, unless I wasn't home, and then he would do, lol. It should be noted that her attitude did not prevent Barrett from loving her too, it just made her a little prickly sometimes and never a day passed where he did not try to make amends...holy terriers are quirky.
We did not know when we got her that we would be joining the Foreign Service and subsequently dragging her all over the planet. But such is the life of a Diplodog, relegated to a cyclical dance of booster shots, health certificates, riding under airplane seats (and occasionally being relegated to the "accompanied baggage hold" so that the temperature and cabin pressure would be maintained at levels safe for her. A merry-go-round of temperate or not so temperate weather, feral cats (the forward scouts of the Huns...in case you didn't know), long car rides and even 4-star dining. Maggie traveled more than many adults I know. In her 16.5 years she visited 7 countries, 4 continents and survived or enjoyed (depending on the trip) a multitude of home-leaves and vacations. She traveled with us everywhere.
So as we say goodbye to 2016, the year I lost my sweet girl, I thought I would share one story that features from Israel.
We had just returned from R&R and had planned on holding a party (my sweet husband's idea) to celebrate Texas Independence Day - March 6. We didn't quite make the day because weather had been rainy and as we were planning on hosting in our garden, we had to be flexible on the date. We had planned on having a tostada party and even shipped in tostada shells from Texas for the occasion. This would be my second big Foreign Service hosting opportunity, but the first one at post. It literally seemed every time I turned around that my husband had invited more people. I tried not to be alarmed and kept marching forward with my preparations.
I should take a moment here to explain something. Tel Aviv, like a lot of Israel, has feral cats...they are everywhere. I have joked on several occasions that if two Israelis are standing in a field...anywhere...there will be a dozen cats. Our sweet Maggie was Cairn Terrier (or Holy terrier, if you asked my father) and as such a bit territorial. While she had been raised in her early life with us in a house which included another dog and a cat, as she aged, her tolerance for any animal that "didn't belong" in her yard substantially decreased. As the weather cleared up, so did the appearance of more cats in her yard - she was not amused and would race after them, fiercely barking until they had been "deported" from her territory. We frequently joked that they did not have the appropriate visas to be in the yard - Foreign Service humor.
As we continued to make preparations for the party, we hauled the large rolling trash bins to just outside the kitchen side door. Almost immediately, we realized we had a problem. The arrival of the trash bins apparently was the equivalent of ringing a dinner bell for the cats and they perched themselves up on the wall above the bins anxiously awaiting any potential delicacies. Closed lids on a trash bin means nothing to these cats, as was proven by us finding the turkey carcass from Thanksgiving at our front door - so we knew we were going to need more than just rocks on keep them out. Additionally, the moment the cats starting lining up on the wall, Maggie would begin barking, leaping up the whole time in hopes of catching an unsuspecting feline's cat or dangling foot. In addition to driving us crazy, we also did not want to drive our neighbors crazy with our obsessed dog's barking.
Finally, the day of the party arrived, as did a solution. As I had already had several run-ins with the feral cats, my brother in Portland, Oregon had sent me a Super Soaker water gun. Knowing that I would never be able to keep Maggie from escaping outside while guests were going in and out, our housekeeper Sinora and I devised a plan. Since Maggie already knew that the cats had targeted the trash, and as the trash would be in relatively constant use from the disposal of paper plates, etc, we were confident that she would alert us if any cats showed up to pillage the dumpsters for food. Once that happened, Sinora would step out the kitchen side door and use the water gun to disperse the cats from the wall. Once peace was restored, Maggie would return to visiting guests and Sinora could return to helping me in the kitchen. The plan worked beautifully. The food was terrific, our guests enjoyed themselves, the Tex Mex food was well received and even better, we did not have to face trash being dispersed everywhere from feral cats - thanks to Maggie with backup from Sinora with a water gun.
A few days later I was talking with a good friend who happened to be The Irish Ambassadors wife, who said, "So, I hear you armed your housekeeper?" All I could do was laugh.
Love it Deidre! Got teary eyed there for a moment. It really seems that Maggie had a wonderful life with you both. I know how hard it is to lose a pet but Mom knows even more when our dog Seppy died after having lived several of his last years only with Mom when we were all at college and Dad was working in Spain. He was her constant presence when she came home at night after work and her morning sunshine. We spread Seppy's ashes as a family once reunited up on the top of the hills where we used to walk to celebrate his life and reflected on when we picked him up from a kennel in Connecticut before knowing we would live in Switzerland and then Belgium and then back to Switzerland. His beautiful live ended in the Bernese Oberland at our mountain house at the time. Big hugs to you and Bear!
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful story! It makes me smile. This is a bit late, but I'm sorry you lost your friend/baby/companion. *hugs*
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