Meg
I wasn't supposed to need to write this post for three more years. That was the plan. Three. More. Years.
Why the hell do plans keep falling apart for us lately?
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I never planned to give in. I knew within hours of meeting Mr. Husband that he loved Bulldogs, but I didn't expect to ever have one living in my house. I guess when a guy has a tattoo of an animal and he has spent his entire life trying to scheme to get that animal, you should know that your plan to resist is doomed to fail.
And my plan failed miserably.
The first thing that happened was that Mr. Husband managed to kick some serious butt at work one month. He wound up with a bonus that more than covered the cost of our kitchen remodel. It's hard to tell a guy he can't buy his dream dog when you're standing inside your shiny new kitchen thinking lusty thoughts about your new crown moulding.
Then he started asking when he was getting his Bulldog EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. His persistence almost qualified as a form of torture.
And then there was this.
Bulldog puppies are the cutest damn puppies that have ever walked this earth. It's true. And Meg was the sweetest puppy EVER.
There was no way I could resist once I had spent ten seconds around baby Meg.
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Meg grew up to be everything I expected: a farting, snorting, drooling beast that had about as much grace as a bowling ball with legs. While that description is essentially everything I don't like in a dog, Mr. Husband adored everything about her. He loved her almost as much as he loved me. She was his dream come true.
He loved her so much that he happily tolerated me complaining about that dog every single day for nearly eight years. She drove me to the limits of insanity with her never-ending need to be wherever I was, constantly gnawing on her paws or snoring or snorting like a an old lawn mower. If her plan was to try to charm me with her constant need to be noisy, she failed miserably. I couldn't be charmed.
But it never stopped her.
Nothing ever stopped her.
Meg did whatever she wanted to do whenever she wanted to do it. She was all Bully.
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Every evening at our house is virtually identical. Mr. Husband disappears down to his man cave and I curl up on the couch with my laptop. Alexis does whatever she wants to do, as did Meg. And what Meg nearly always wanted to do was to shove her big, stinky butt all up in my business. I would tell her to get off of the couch over and over and over again. Each and every time she would obey, but would immediately boomerang back up without so much as pausing. It was if she was saying, "Yeah, I know what you want me to do and I'm willing to prove I'm smart enough to obey, but I'm still going to do whatever I want."
I'd tolerate her noisy presence for a while, but would eventually start to lose my mind. It was usually somewhere around the second or third room-clearing fart that I would chase her down to the man cave. She belonged down with Mr. Husband. Not with me. That was the plan.
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Things were going according to plan. Meg had annoyed me to the point of insanity. I had chased her down to the man cave. Mr. Husband was doing what he had done every night for as long as I can remember--he was playing with Meg. Her favorite thing in the whole wide world was to play Keep-a-Way. She would grab a bone-shaped fleece toy and dare you to try to take it from her. If you tried, she would snag it and run away. If you managed to grab hold of it, she would clamp down as hard as she could and pull and pull and pull and pull until your arm was ripped clean off of your body. Or until you let go. Whichever came first.
All they were doing was playing, just like every other night.
Meg went from grinning her idiot Bulldog grin to collapsing in a pile of fur and wrinkles in an instant.
Mr. Husband pulled her into his arms and carried her upstairs, all the while trying to figure out what had happened. We didn't even have time to start stressing over how we would pay for an emergency trip to the vet's office. She was gone less than five minutes after she collapsed.
Just like *that.*
Gone.
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The plan was for her to follow along with the statistics that define the English Bulldog breed. They are supposed to live 8-10 years, but of course Meg was healthy and active and made frequent trips to the vet, so she was going to live just a little past that maximum expectation.
She was always a little bit exceptional, so it was a reasonable plan.
We forgot to factor in that 20% of English Bulldogs die suddenly of cardiac issues. We don't know for a fact what exactly happened, but it's not hard to guess.
Meg followed a plan. It just wasn't our plan.
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There was exactly one person who could convince Meg to do her bidding: Alexis. Alexis was born with magical powers over that dog. She could put clothes on her, force her to move off of the couch, convince her to have a tea party . . . anything. For as bumbling and stubborn and klutzy as Meg was, she was miraculously gentle and tolerant with Alexis.
The news that Meg's heart had stopped and she was gone didn't go over well.
With anyone, really.
We'll miss you Megara Madison.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Reader Comments (74)
Thinking of your family.
*hugs* I'm so, so sorry for your loss. they really do become members of our family and it's never easy to say goodbye.
Thinking of you and your family. RIP Meg......I feel like I knew her.
That's just so awful and sad. So sorry for your loss.
You've all been in my thoughts since I first read about Meg. I'm so sorry...it's heartbreaking and doesn't make sense.
We had an English Bully, too. He was a snorting, grunting, farting, stubborn 65lb speed bump. He, too, drove me to insanity and yet...I loved that crusty critter so much. They are great dogs.
Thank you for sharing her with us!
Oh no. That is horrible. I am so sorry. So sorry. :(
Meg makes me want to get a bulldog. What an adorable puppy.
*HUGS*
Sometimes, we meet an animal that simply, inexplicably, brings magic into our lives. That's what I get from reading about your Meg. I'm sorry for your loss.
I am so, so sorry. I don't know what else to say.
So sorry :( Hugs to you and all your family.
So sorry for your loss. Wonderful tribute Michelle.
I'm sorry...what a sweet puppy. Hugs to the family.
What a wonderful tribute to your Meg. It's hard to lose a pet..they are family members. Keeping you and your family in my thoughts and prayers.
reading this, i cried. i can't imagine what your family is going through. my condolences to your family.
I'm so sorry for your and your family's loss. I always liked seeing the pics with Meg in them, it reminded me of my grandparent's bulldog that used the scare the hell out of us when we were kids with all his snorting, grumbling and drooling. It's never easy to lose a pet, hugs from Arizona.
M, w, and A, I am so sad about Meg. I remember her running free up to the water tower. I love u guys, b
Oh goodness, I'm so very sorry. I KNOW she'll be missed immensely and already is. Much love to you all on the loss of your family member. xo
Oh :(( I'm so so sorry about your loss ((hugs))
oh my =( My heart breaks for your adorable little family. Losing a pet is so horrible. I volunteer at a local shelter, and I lost one of my favorites yesterday due to an unfortunate accident. My 6 year old daughter and I cried and cried last night. The only thing I could say to make her feel better was that there are other dogs out there that need our help. Take comfort in knowing that you gave Meg everything you could in her short little life.
So sorry to hear about your loss. Thanks for sharing this touching tribute with us.
Oh, heartbroken for you. Losing a pet is so hard. Sending love to your family... what a good, sweet dog Meg was.
Such a shame. Poor sweet Meg. So sorry.
Ah, boo Michelle. I know a.) how it feels to suddenly lose a pet, and b.) the Siren Call of the Bulldog. All my love and warm thoughts to you and the family. I am spending a lot of my good karma hoping that 2012 starts shaping up better for you.
I'm so sorry! My heart goes out to your whole family.
I am so sad for your family's loss. But it is nice to know Meg was with her favorite person and doing her favorite thing during her last moments on Earth. And please excuse the sappy poem below -- I think it's comforting.
The Rainbow Bridge Poem
Just this side of heaven is a place called the Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to the Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again.
The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head. You look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together…
Author Unknown