The Story of a Very Good Dog
Maya was a very good dog. Even once she developed Cushing’s and had to pee all the time and didn’t always make it outside, she was still an excellent dog. One of the best.
Picture it – Greensboro 2008
My then-husband, Zach, and I decided we wanted a dog. The local PetSmart was having one of their Increased Guilt Saturdays adoption days, so we figured we might as well check it out. We wandered around looking at the dogs in cages, but none felt like The Right Dog.
So we shrugged and walked over to the grocery store next door to pick up a few things.
It wasn’t until we walked back to our car and glanced over at PetSmart that we realized the adorable spaniel-ish / setter-ish dog we saw in the store was part of the adoption day event.
We walked up to “Tiffy,” and I crouched down low. She put her ridiculously floofy paws in my lap and rested her soft white chin on my shoulder.
Her tail was short, but its fur was long, dangling down like the sort of 80s high-pony her name suggested. She had one blue eye and one brown eye. I mused that it was interesting that she wasn’t deaf; many white dogs with blue eyes are deaf.
She had a shaved spot on her front leg; the shelter volunteers said that she was found wandering the streets and the vet had placed an IV once she was brought in.
Still not totally sure we should even get a dog, I walked to the back of the store and called my dad. I needed an enabler, and he fit the bill. After we talked for a few minutes, he said, “we both know you’re going to get this dog.” He was right.
We filled out the adoption paperwork and took “Tiffy” home
The first item on the new-dog agenda was a name that seemed less like a teenage bubblegum-chewing debutante from the 80s. Gag me with a spoon, Heather.
My first two choices were Nova or Juno. Then I realized that both names contained the word “no” which might be confusing for a dog still learning the rules. After some debate on spelling, we settled on Maya.
Two things quickly became apparent: We did not need to worry about her having negative associations with her name and the shaved area on her leg was not from an IV.
My comment about deaf dogs turned out prescient – she did not respond to any sounds. And when she began limping, I searched through her shelter records and found that she was brought in HBC (hit by car) with a broken leg. There was an identifiable knot on her leg where the bone was healing.
One day fairly soon after we got her, I was playing with her in the living room. I’d crouch down and pat my legs and she would come running and jump on me and spin around in circles. One time, she launched herself at me and started screaming and refused to put any pressure on that leg. I felt terrible.
After a few minutes, she stood up and walked around the room like she’d never been hit by that car. I don’t know exactly what she did, but she must have popped something back into place because she never limped again.
We worked on hand signals to communicate with her. Soon she could sit, lie down, stand up, go poop, spin in circles, and jump through a hula hoop. Sometimes she was too smart for her own good – once we lived in a house with a fenced yard, and I would use my hands to beckon her to come inside, and if she didn’t want to come in, she would simply turn her head the other direction so she couldn’t see me. After that, we switched to flicking the backyard flood lights off and on.
Her deafness had some benefits. She didn’t hear food wrappers and come running. I could call the cat without getting charged down by a cat and a dog. She rarely barked.
She only barked when she got really excited, and she always looked confused. I think she could hear some very loud sounds, though she couldn’t tell which direction they were coming from. She had a particular love for my mom – as soon as my mom walked in the door, Maya would go crazy, spinning in circles and barking.
A generally laid-back dog, when she did get the zoomies, they were really zoomstastic. She put her all into her zoomies. She loved to share her zoomies with other dogs (and kids), tearing across the yard in zigs and zags. Her weirdest relationship was with my sister’s dog, Rylee. I don’t know how to describe what they did other than “making out.” When Rylee opened her mouth, Maya stuck half her face in, licking as far into Rylee’s mouth as she could. 
She once peed in a river.
I don’t know why it was as funny as it was, but here’s photographic evidence.
When she stood in front of you with her head down and gazed upward, you’d swear she was the saddest dog ever. Really she just had a case of resting sad face to go with our cat’s resting grumpy face.
Maya was the most patient, sweet dog I’ve ever met, and I worked in kennels and vet offices for years. I’m not sure she ever met a human or animal that she did not like. I did see her chase a groundhog out of our yard once, but I’m not sure she wasn’t trying to play with it.
One morning in 2016 something stung her, and her whole mouth swelled up, and I can only imagine her apologizing to the bee.
If Squirt was standing between her and her food or water, she’d just hang her head and wait.
Speaking of grieving
Though Maya stayed with Zach after the divorce, I still paid for half of her expenses and consider her part of my family.
Over the last couple of years, she has slowed down considerably. If she was 2 when we got her, then she’s approximately 16 years old now. She was diagnosed with Cushing’s Disease and arthritis. She struggled to stand up and needed some help getting up and down my front steps when she stayed at my house. Her high-pony stopped flipping back and forth because she stopped wagging her tail. But up until recently, she was still eating and drinking. Then she slowed down and barely finished one meal before the next. Two days ago, she could not stay standing. Zach moved her scheduled vet recheck appointment up to yesterday because we were pretty sure she had reached her end. They called him before he was even out of the parking lot. The Dr. pointed out that the mass on her side had opened and gotten infected and she would need to go to the emergency vet. Zach asked if there was really any point and the vet agreed that time was short either way.. She got some prednisone to hopefully keep her somewhat comfortable until Lap of Love came to his house this afternoon to help her along.
Last night, I took the kids to Zach’s house to spend some final moments with her. She got two pup cups of ice cream, bacon, and some ham.
This afternoon we each picked up one kid and met back at Zach’s house. She got a final ice cream pup cup as we waited for the vet.
Just like with Squirt, I have nothing but good things to say about Lap of Love. I can’t imagine euthanasia any other way. I mean, I can… I worked at vet clinics and assisted in many euthanasias. But the intimacy of getting to be with your pet in their own space through to the end is something that can never be matched in a clinic setting.
Surprisingly, both kids wanted to be there for the whole thing. The vet encouraged us to give her all the treats she wanted and to pet her and love on her until we were ready.
There were lots of tears and love to go around. She faded into unconsciousnes while eating bacon and ham and being petted by multiple people. I reminded the kids that we are sad, and we will be sad for a long time, but that for Maya it was probably the best day she’d had in a long time.
I won’t write too much about my kids’ reactions – their grief is their own story to tell. Rowan kept dropping these wise Yoda insights, though.
“Maya had a good life.”
Yes. Yes she did.
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I remember when Blacky stayed at your house with Maya. He was excited to see us, but then ran down the hall to get Maya’s attention so she could see us too.
My son’s cat came with the name “Rosie.” The good news: our last name is O’Donnell. She was “put to sleep” in her own back yard, in his lap- which is not really like him. Anyhoo, my daughter said, “rest in peace kitty- you had a good run.”