2012

What a year, eh? Highs like Obama winning the election and more states legalizing gay marriage; Horrible lows like Hurricane Sandy and Newtown, CT. It's kind of hard to say anything good about 2012 after Newtown. I kind of feel the same about my personal 2012...a real roller coaster ride of emotions.

You know that when you get on a roller coaster ride and you hear that tick tick tick of the chain that soon you'll be plummeting to the bottom of the rails at warp speed. That was me, trudging along working way too many hours and putting up with way too much bullshit. I knew the bottom was going to fall out at some point. I finally did the right thing and got out. I've got a job now that isn't trying to kill me or my relationships. And, as you know, I got legally married to the girl of my dreams this year. The coaster made it all the way back to the top. But roller coasters always have at least two plunges, right?

I've been on hellacious roller coasters before. In 2004 we built a house and moved in with big plans and dreams in our heads. My gal wanted a baby, so we started fertility testing. Ultrasounds revealed some growths on her ovaries. It was cancer. Fertility testing actually saved her life, but it didn't save her ovaries or uterus. There was relief because it could have been worse; grief because it was still a loss. Her dream of having a child was gone.

In 2005 we lost Bryan and my partner's mother within a week of each other. Gut wrenching. This was our personal Newtown.

You wonder how you'll get through it. How you'll even find the strength to get out of bed sometimes. But life goes on for the living. You find ways.

In August of that year my gal saw an ad in the newspaper for White German Shepherd pups. She nonchalantly commented that she had always wanted one. We already had a dog, one she had bottle fed as a pup because he was the runt of his litter. But he was getting up in years and I thought - if something happened to him that year - well, I didn't think she'd recover. I didn't know if I'd recover. We were hanging on by threads as it was. There was part of me that thought a puppy would be unfair to bring into that old dog's life, and another part of me that didn't want a puppy in my grieving life either. But my gal's birthday was coming up and my friends talked me into at least going to take a look at them. They really didn't have to push too hard.

I went after work one night and drove out in the country to this run-down farm house with several scrap cars in the backyard. Two huge Black and Tan German Shepherds were chained up to their dog houses and barked at me, but in a friendly way. A gaggle of white pups made a bee-line under one of the cars when they realized I was standing there. Well, all of them except for one little fluffball that wagged her tail and came running up to me without an ounce of fear. I was hooked. Any doubts melted away. I took her right then and there and headed for home. She curled up in the seat and fell asleep less than a mile from the farmhouse. So much for separation anxiety. I'll never forget my gal's face when she saw her - she lit up like a Christmas tree. I hadn't seen much of that in the last few years. On the other hand, the old dog was not at all pleased. He sniffed her and then growled like an old man with a grudge. This was not going to be easy.

We named her Maggie Mae, in homage to my gal's mom Margaret. She was the smartest and happiest and bravest and fiestiest pup I've ever seen. She wasn't afraid of the mean old grump who growled and snapped at her - she just kept going back at him until she won him over with her charm and wit. She'd stick her little butt in his face and while he was sniffing she'd steal his ball or toy or bone before he realized what was happening. She'd jump on his back and bite his tail, knowing that he couldn't get his fat old body turned round fast enough to do anything about it. But you know what? It made him young again. That gray-bearded old dog started to smile and play like he used to. Maggie picked up all of our spirits.

Anyone who loves dogs will tell you that their dog is the best dog in the world, so saying that about Maggie seems cliche. I've had lots of dogs in my life and I've loved them all, but none compare to Mags. None. We have two other White Shepherds now and I love them to pieces, but Mags is still the best. (Who says parents don't have favorites?) There are so many stories to tell about Maggie but not enough time or space here to do her justice. I suppose I could write a book, but then that's already been done, hasn't it? I don't know...Here I am, self-proclaimed master of the written word, and I can't find a way to adequately describe what makes her so special. I guess if I had to narrow it down to one thing I'd say it was her smile. Yes, dogs smile.

And now back to that roller coaster ride...

Maggie passed away this year. She was smiling and chasing tennis balls one day, and the next day could hardly get up off the floor. We found out she had cancer and it had spread like wildfire. Within a week she was gone. I know it's not the same as Newtown. I know it's not the same as our personal Newtown. But it hurts bad.

In 2012 we got married. Our family expressed their love and acceptance. I got a sane job. Obama won re-election and marriage equality took more leaps forward. But we lost Maggie. Newtown lost children. How do you reconcile all that?

For auld lang syne my dear,
For auld lang syne
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
For the sake of auld lang syne.


In honor of Maggie:
http://web.photodex.com/view/28wcm28