Six Impossible Things

If you’ve been following Maybee’s adventures here, you undoubtedly already know a lot about her. You know from her sweet face and her gentle eyes and her inquisitive smile that she truly was a dog like no other. 

So it’s with a mix of profound sadness and gratitude that I interrupt her photo stream to let you know that she died yesterday.   

If you’re thinking “What? How? Not possible,” and all the other questions, I assure you I am thinking the same. What I will tell you is that she died quickly and quietly in my arms, without pain or suffering. She was a sweet, tough, resilient girl to the end and she leaves a void that feels bottomless.   

Now that’s the end of the sad news, because there’s so much more happy stuff. There’s all the stuff about her I’m grateful for and that I think tells us a little about ourselves and our lives. 

Maybee showed up over 11 years ago, a tiny animal stuffed into a Christmas stocking. She jumped onto the floor and immediately became the boss of everyone. Over the years, she transformed from a feisty stubborn girl to the sweet, smart, and loving best friend that she was. She was game for a move across town and then a move across the country. She saw me through a divorce and the death of her sweet brother just a few months ago. I couldn’t begin to count the trips and hikes and runs and adventures we’ve taken together. No matter what’s come and gone, Maybee was always there. She was the constant in my life, and that loyalty suited her personality perfectly.

Did I desperately pray she would suddenly get better? Of course. Do I still believe in miracles even though she didn’t? Unequivocally. I know without a doubt that heaven and earth intersect. I know that because she helped me to see the tiny miracles and beauty in the every day.   

She taught me how to love. 

She taught me sometimes you need to stop and smell something. 

And sometimes you need to run really really fast through the woods with a smile on your face. 

She taught me that being greeted when you come home from a trip is the best thing ever. 

She taught me that you should always eat dinner at the same time, as the sun sets. 

 She taught me that sometimes, when you really love someone, all you can do is stare at them. 

She taught me that we need each other - that having loving friends and family make everything better. 

She taught me that sometimes you have to have a tea party with a little girl, and if she punches you in the face that’s just part of it. Always be gentle. 

She taught me to be curious and interested in things, even if you’ve seen them before. 

She taught me that sometimes you should spend the afternoon just lying around. 

And now, she’s teaching me how to let go, how to be grateful for the time we have. 

She’s teaching me that sadness and doubt and gratitude can all live together. 

She’s teaching me that showing up matters. Sometimes it’s all you can do. 

Is it worth it, you wonder? Is losing such an amazing creature and friend so suddenly worth the sadness? 

Absolutely. 

It’s in death that we learn to really know life. It’s in sadness that we can fully appreciate joy. 

Today, consider doing something for Maybee. If you have a pet, hug it. Or if you have a person, greet them with kindness and a smile when they come home. Go for a walk and notice how pretty it is outside. Ask yourself when you last took a day off and truly lived life. Slow down. Be gentle with your people. Love well.