When Magnolia Blossomed

Maggie, Mags, Magpie. Boo Boo Butt, Boobinator, The Boo Boo Meister. Baby Girl. Little My Little. And let’s not forget to mention her human grandmother’s favorite, Nudie Bug. These are all pet names for the sweetest little soul, and yes, Magnolia knows them all. When I first saw her on the local animal shelter’s website, I was at a point in my life where I was heartbroken. I could tell by the picture of the tiny white dog standing against the blue background with her head hanging with a chain around her neck, looking dejected, that she was too. Her description told of a good little mama who had just had a litter of puppies in the shelter at only nine months old. All but one had died from Parvo. Her previous home was in a house with close to twenty other dogs. When the owner passed away, the family surrendered all the dogs to the shelter, their fate unknown. Her story and her sad little face tugged at my heart, but I wasn’t in a position at that moment to move forward. Or so I thought.

At this time six years ago, I was mourning the loss of my cat, Willow. I adopted Willow and her brother, Dante’ from the animal shelter when they were just eight weeks old. While I had planned on only adopting Willow, on the day that I went to pick her up, Dante’ was left in the cage alone. The only boy in a litter of 6 girls looked so lonely in that big cage by himself. He looked at me, flipped over onto his back with his belly in the air and looked at me. I left the shelter that day with both kittens. Sixteen years later, Willow had recently died in my arms and Dante’s health was rapidly declining, especially with the loss of his sister who he clearly missed. He laid next to her when she died and hadn’t stopped looking for her since despite that. I knew that one day I would adopt another pet and had begun browsing rescue options for the future when I was ready. My pets are my family, best friends, biggest confidants, and my children. I also knew that my next pet would be a dog. My cats were in my life for so many years, and it would take a long time for me to be able to have another pair of cats like the ones that I loved.

On the Saturday, two weeks before Easter of that year, I made a trip to PetSmart to pick up soft foods and liquids. Dante’ was nearing the end and I knew I would soon have to make the dreaded decision to help him over the Rainbow Bridge. I parked my car and immediately noticed that there was a pet adoption event that day. There were five cages with dogs in them and my eyes were immediately drawn to the cage in the far-left corner. In it, was a little white dog with her nose stuck between the bars looking out into the world. Her big, brown eyes were wide, but sad. I called out to the man sitting at the table from the parking lot.

“Is that Magnolia?”

“Yes ma’am it is,” he replied. He seemed a little surprised that I knew her name.

I sat on the ground in front of her cage and began talking to her. Her tail was wagging at warp speed and she was itching to get out of the confined space. I took her for a walk, played with her for a bit, then she went back into her cage and I went into the store for Dante’s supplies. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. This little girl was adorable and so incredibly sweet. She had the cutest little heart-shaped birthmark on her nose and the kindest demeanor. When I walked back outside, there were a few people standing around her cage looking at her. All I could think was that she wasn’t for them. She was looking at me and I was looking at her. It was at that moment that I spontaneously went to the table and asked to fill out the papers to adopt her.

That began our story. I had to pass the necessary inspections when adopting a pet and she was scheduled to be spayed, so it would take a few weeks before she could possibly come home with me. They were also allowing for others to fill out paperwork and would take some time determining where her best home would be. During this time, Dante’ was at the point where I had made peace doing what was best for him and his quality of life. I would sit with him and beg him to just let go. And that’s what he did. On Easter Sunday, my boy passed away on his own early that morning. I bowed out of Easter celebrations while I sat holding him and waiting for the gracious woman that cremated Willow to come and take Dante’ away.

Losing my beloved cats was incredibly hard. What I didn’t anticipate in the beginning was how different dogs and cats are. I hadn’t had a dog since I was a child and wasn’t responsible for the one then. The transition was especially heartfelt since I was grieving Dante’ and Willow’s loss. I’ll never forget the day I picked Mags up to come home and asked what her favorite toys were. The shelter told me that she wasn’t fond of any toys that most dogs liked, and instead would drag a blanket with her when it was time for her to enjoy the outside. I was perplexed. I didn’t even know what to do with this dog that I just adopted.

Magnolia did a lot of things that confused me at first. She came home and immediately began to hump everything in sight, including my leg. She hid her food. Lifted her leg to potty. Refused the typical dog toys. She wasn’t a chewer, but she would suck on my pillow for hours on end. And on her first outing to the dog park, she attacked every dog that attempted to sniff her. The one who she did allow the sniffing privileges to…well, she lifted her leg, peed on his face, and kicked up dirt behind her as I stood there with my mouth open apologizing to the wet dog’s owner. But she was still the sweet dog that snuggled up and gave me puppy kisses every chance she had. I thought about her past and the information that I had and began to do some research.

I saw the patterns of a dog that was previously living in a hoarding situation with the majority being male dogs and had been violated as a puppy. One who was weaned from her mother at a young age and was now a bit neurotic. One who lived in a shelter feeling so abandoned. And one who lost her puppies that she was caring for. One who came to me with heartworms that we successfully beat for going on six years now. As I began to understand her more, she became more trusting. She knew she was safe with me. Still not understanding her dislike of typical toys, I gave her an old stuffed animal that I had as a child one day on instinct. I wanted her to play. Did she ever love that! She didn’t attack it. She didn’t destroy it. She began to suck on it and every now and then would lick it and snuggle up on it. She began to play with it, tossing it around the house. Throw and catch was born in our home!

These days, Mags doesn’t have the heart-shaped birthmark on her nose. That went away quickly. It was simply her rubbing her nose against the cage that she no longer lives in. She doesn’t hide her food anymore. Now, she grabs her first few bites of food, tosses them into the air and bats them around for a bit before eating them. It’s like she’s saying, “I’m so grateful.” It’s something I look forward to watching her do every day. My little girl enjoys the highest quality dog food, dental treats, broccoli, carrots, and the occasional grilled chicken salad. Oh, and I can’t forget to mention cheese. She’s definitely my dog! She loves car rides, even when she goes to the vet, and has grown accustomed to getting her teeth brushed.

She’s still not a huge fan of other dogs, although she tolerates them in small doses now. But she does love people and everyone that meets her says what a sweetheart she is. She’s not a barker, so when Maggie barks, I pay attention. Mags is, however, a talker. She’s got her own special little voice that I seem to understand. And she knows mine. I talk to her all day, every day. She understands the language even though she can’t speak herself. She does it all in her own way.

She loves her stuffed animals, which she humps at times. But she stopped trying to hump my leg long ago, so I’m okay with that! Magnolia now has a “pack” of 8 that she carries with her and places near wherever she is for the day. At night, they come to bed with us. It’s like she can be the baby suckling on them…and the mother caring for them. I kept in mind her love of blankets and she now has several in all of her “spots” throughout our home.

I gave her the nickname Boo Boo Butt when I first adopted her because she prances around like a little queen, booty wiggling. My happy little girl loves her walks, sniffing and wiggling in the grass, her food, her “pack”, and her human mom. She’s my sidekick and the best friend that anyone could hope for. We are by each other’s side every moment we can, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

As for Dante’ and Willow, they are gone, but never forgotten. On my dresser by the bed is their spot for the urn that they are both in with pictures of them as kittens and adults. Next to that sits their clay pawprints that were taken when they were cremated. Inscribed on their resting place are the words:

“You no longer greet me as I walk through the door. You’re not there to make me smile or laugh anymore. Life seems quiet without you. You were more than a pet. You were a family member, a friend…A loving soul I’ll never forget. It will take time to heal – for the silence to go away. I still listen for you and miss you every day. You were such a good companion, Constant, Loyal, and True. My life has been much richer because I loved a pet like you.”

I think Magnolia senses them sometimes. I find her looking in that direction often or fixated on areas a few feet above ground as she “talks” to something out of the side of her face like only she can do. They say animals can sense and see things that we humans do not. I think we both saved each other in our own ways and I’m grateful to hopefully have many more years snuggling, loving, and playing with the purest soul that I am equally as grateful for. At night, she dreams. My little soul mate in furry form. Again, a lot like me. I am a dreamer. I feel her start to wiggle next to me and then the sounds begin. I just pull her close, tell her she’s dreaming, and wonder what her innocent mind is remembering as we sleep grateful for another day ahead together.