Margret Mae

My dear Margret.

Maggie is my dog, as I'm sure you can tell my the picture, however she is sometimes mistaken for a feline so I thought I would be very clear about it. She is my darling little eleven-year-old shih-tzu. Although in many cases she could be easily classified as a shit-zoo. She is a very large part of my world because she is my only roommate right now (I have plans to get a fish). Since she is so important and obviously adorable, I thought I should give a little back story to this fluff ball, as she will most likely be popping up several times in my posts.

She started out as our family dog. We got her when we first moved from St. Louis to Georgia. She was part of the deal that my parents made with us. They asked what would make the move easier on us, and my sisters and I said a dog and a pool. We definitely got the pool, but sometimes I still question if we got a dog, a cat, or a rodent. She exemplifies all of three of those critters in one fluffy package. But we love her all the same! When we got her we had the fun task of bestowing her with a name. My eight-year-old suggestion was immediately turned down by my sisters AND my parents. Apparently Chunk is not a good name for a dog. The name Maggie was chosen by my mom because she had always wanted a daughter named Margret that she could call Maggie for short. So little Maggie had received a name.

One of her favorite past times.

She really does love it.

Over the next ten years, Maggie and I grew closer. Each of my sisters moved out, and it just became Maggie and me living with my parents. For those couple of years our bond grew stronger, and she became my little buddy. So when the time for me to go off to college drew nearer and nearer, I started to worry about how little I would get to see her. She had always been there when I was crying and needed some love, or when I was mad and needed a good laugh. How could I face the biggest change in my life without that goofy little dog? But then, my luck changed.

Just a couple months before my graduation, my dad got a new job in Texas. Our whole lives got thrown into chaos (more than normal). I had already been accepted to my university, so it was clear that I would be staying in Georgia, but my parents would not. We were all of a sudden in a frenzy trying to get the house on the market, which was made extremely difficult with my dad already having moved to Texas. My mom still had to stay so that she could finish up at her job, and also work on getting the house ready for sale. The only problem was that she would still need a place to live, and so would Maggie. So we canceled my lease at the college dorms, and the summer before my first semester, we went apartment hunting for my mom, myself, and of course Maggie.It was decided that my mom would live with me until the house was on the market, then she would leave for Texas. For awhile I had assumed that Maggie would be going with her. But then the greatest thing happened. They said I could keep her.

I do partially believe that the only reason I got to keep Mags was because my mom didn't think she could handle the stress of a plane ride and would die (quite likely), and my dad wanted me to have some kind of alarm system when I started living alone (he was not entirely sold on the idea). But either way, it is undeniable that it was a good decision.

Now it is just me and my crazy little shih-tzu. She is full of anxiety issues, and she is extremely stubborn. She always backs onto the carpet when coming off of tile flooring, she is terrified of stairs, thunder, and her own shadow, and she only comes when she wants to. But she is still the greatest dog I could ever ask for. In her old age she spends most of her time sleeping and taking up the entire couch, but she still had a small spark of fire in her. Miss Maggie Mae is the best roommate, and she fills me to the brim with giggles and smiles.

-Emily