John 1:16
We are dog people. Always have been. Growing up, I don't remember a season that we didn't have a dog. Same with Jim's family. So when two dog people marry, it is inevitable that they're going to have dogs (especially when they have three boys!) Our first furry friend was Shelby-- a black lab given to us by Jim's cousin. We got her before we "got" Hunter--when Austin and Caleb were about 5 and 3. She was the best outfielder in our backyard baseball games and their favorite playmate in the plastic Walmart pool. When we moved to Birmingham in 2002, she was my companion those first lonely days when the boys were at school and Jim was at work. She saw more than one ugly cry, nestling up under me many days to offer comfort. Amazing how God created dogs to be sensitive like that--to know when we just need their presence to help us through a tough time. No words necessary. She didn't seem to mind that her home had changed; she still had her people. (The lessons that dogs teach us!) Three years later at age 11, there was a tumor, lots of tears, and sad goodbyes.
We waited a couple of months then decided we were ready. Dog people are like that--they find great comfort for their grief in the delight of a playful puppy. Jim saw the ad in the paper, and he and Hunter set out on their mission to choose "the one" from a rather large litter of boxer puppies. They brought home a precious bundle of brown fur, and we named her Magnolia--"Maggie" for short. (Probably an indication that I was still missing my home state a bit.) It was summertime, so the boys and I were home most of the time to help potty train and introduce her to Gibson life. On lake days she would curl up in a ball and sleep on the boat, oblivious to the squeals and laughter and water spraying around her. At home she would crawl under the ottoman in her own version of hide and seek. But not for long. She grew rapidly and within a few weeks couldn't squeeze underneath much of anything. What fun to watch her try though!
More than one Christmas morning has been sprinkled with laughter as she would play with her "gift." My favorite was a squeaky pig that entertained her (and us!) for hours. Skeptically she would approach the strange purple object, tentatively paw at it, fascinated that this produced a sharp, high-pitched squeal. Startled, she would leap back with a puzzled look on her face; then she would slowly move toward the purple pig again. This went on for hours until she overcame her fear and the squealing became continuous (and a bit annoying). The pig ended up in time out on top of the refrigerator, but it was released from time to time when we needed a good laugh!
Some years we have attempted to include Maggie in the Christmas card photo, but this has often been a challenge. One Thanksgiving afternoon a few years ago I was taking advantage of full tummies and happy boys, snapping some pictures in the backyard. Jim called Maggie over to join them. She darted across the yard, racing directly toward Hunter, running between his legs, and upending him. His long legs went flying through the air, and once we knew he was fine, the laughter that followed was priceless. You know--the "I can't breathe" kind that makes you smile upon remembrance years later.
Maggie was Jim's faithful walking buddy. She would eagerly await the leash, panting her anticipation until the door was opened. They had a four-mile path in the neighborhood with lots of steep hills, and occasionally I would join them. She loved it. Sniffing every yard, curb, fire hydrant, and leaf pile, she would eagerly prance along even as I trudged. In the summertime she delighted in seeing a sprinkler in action, especially toward the end of the walk. She would sprint to the water and try to catch a mouthful as it swirled around. Happy puppy!
Maggie enjoyed eight years of reign on her dog throne in our home when suddenly she was forced to share her space with Caleb's dog Linc after he graduated and moved home from Tuscaloosa. The transition was a bit precarious; she wasn't too sure about this vivacious "brother" with relentless energy. (She wasn't alone--neither was I!) Eventually they settled into a sweet friendship, often cuddling on the couch together. We learned they did not share bones or toys well, but otherwise they got along famously. (I might add that Maggie's face did gray significantly during his two-year stay though!)
This last year it's been Maggie and me.* After the wedding last May, Caleb and Linc moved to their new home with Dallas and Cooper (yes, my sweet daughter-in-love is a dog person, too!), and we settled into a routine--much calmer and slower than in her younger years. She has still enjoyed walks, though not so long as before. She has savored naps--they have been the centerpiece of her days. She has greeted guests with a bright smile and curling motion that resembles a cinnamon roll. Suddenly, a couple of weeks ago she began having problems keeping her balance, a result of low glucose level, the vet determined. He believed it was most likely a tumor on her pancreas. Last week, while Hunter was with her and I was at school, she had a significant seizure. Decision time. We don't want her to suffer. We have all shed a bucket of tears, for this is so much more than just losing the family pet. So much of her is connected to our memories of Jim--she was his dog. You know how dogs generally attach themselves to one family member. Maggie adored Jim and was often his shadow. Where he was she was. Precious memories...
Reflecting on this loss though, I have been reminded of God's infinite grace. He allowed this to happen now--during this brief two-week period that Hunter is home. (He leaves next Monday for a 10-week internship in Prague.) He was here to help me make that oh-so-difficult decision to let sweet Maggie go. Austin was home from Orlando last weekend for Mother's Day and was able to say his goodbyes. As I contemplated the possibility of surgery for her, I had asked the vet the average life span of boxers: 8-10 years. Maggie would have been 11 next month. So this last year was a gift of His grace--in a house that might have been empty He said, "Not yet. Enjoy this Magnolia." Surely He has made everything beautiful in its time. (Eccl. 3:11)
"What is man that You are mindful of him?" Psalm 8:4
I am still awed that we serve a God who is so intimately involved in the details of our lives. Indeed He gives us what we need at our point of need EVERY time. Probably the reality of Maggie's absence will not completely sink in until after Hunter leaves next week. Yet, I know that my God will continue to be my strength and my provision for every day. He has showered me with grace upon grace. And I'm pretty sure that before too long, there will be a puppy scampering about my feet. Dog people are just like that you know.
September 2011
