Maggie Rescues Mom

I wrote this for Petco Love's, the Petco Foundation, 2024 Petco Love Stories contest. The challenge was to write about a rescue pet adoption in 500 words or fewer. The winners would receive money for the rescue organization of their choice, along with swag like tennis shoes, t shirts and Petco gift cards. 

My story, Maggie Rescues Mom, won $10,000 for Mostly Mutts, the rescue organization where we got Maggie (and our tripod Ruby) and where I volunteer as a dog walker once a week. It is an amazing organization of 300 volunteers and very few staff, who rescue, rehabilitate and adopt out some of the most loving dogs around. If you're looking for somewhere to spend your time or dollars in Kennesaw, you can't go wrong with these folks. 

Now, without further ado, in honor of Mother's Day:

Maggie Rescues Mom

Dementia is a horrible disease that robs people of themselves. They forget events, loved ones, how to care for themselves and others -- and sometimes, they forget that they don't like dogs. 

I grew up in a house divided -- Daddy and I loved (and still love) dogs. Mom and my sister tolerated them. Once we left home, Daddy continued to have dogs -- a schnauzer named Lady, then a shih tzu named Leroy. After Leroy died of old age, following a lifetime of spoiled care, Mom announced it was her turn to NOT have a dog. 

That lasted only a few months. Mom, a realistic person -- before dementia robbed her of that, too -- admitted that Daddy's need for a dog outweighed her need to not have one. The search took us to Mostly Mutts, a rescue organization where my husband and I had adopted a three-legged dog the year before. 

Maggie, a five-pound bundle of energy and love, was three years old and housebroken when we first laid eyes on her in fall 2019. The perfect fit for Daddy, who wanted a low-maintenance lap dog. What none of us knew at the time was that Maggie wasn't Daddy's dog. 

As COVID and dementia raged, and Mom and Dad sequestered in their house, Maggie gave them a reason to get up. She needed to go outside, to be fed, to go for walks and to be held. Her lap of choice became Mom's, a choice that Mom initially fought, putting Maggie down and telling her to go find Dad. 

But Maggie persisted, almost as if she knew that Mom was the one who needed her. Mom found that having something, someone, to hold onto as everything she knew was slipping away brought her comfort and joy. She began to pick Maggie up and snuggle her close. She talks to her as if she's a baby, with Maggie sitting in Mom's lap and staring at her face with adoration and complete understanding. Now that Mom can't talk about anything that isn't right in front of her, she talks about Maggie. 

"This dog is so smart," Mom says. "She knows so many words."

Mom no longer remembers not being a dog person. But we do. Daddy and I marvel at the way this tiny creature wrapped Mom around her little paw. We smile as Mom hand feeds her kibble -- "she likes it that way," Mom says defensively. We breathe a sigh as Mom comes through the door and calls out to Maggie. On days when she can't remember our names or where she is, she remembers the dog. 

They've moved out of their house and into a senior living facility, one that takes dogs, of course. It's been confusing for Mom and hard on Daddy to leave their home of 50 years. But with Maggie, Mom and Daddy still have a reason to get up, a rescue dog who rescued them so much more than they rescued her. 

An update, since I wrote this last year: Mom and Dad have moved from Huntsville, Alabama, their home of 57 years, to be near my sister and me in Georgia. Mom lives in an assisted living facility that allows dogs to visit. Daddy lives with us. Maggie and Daddy visit Mom almost every day. I'm not sure which one of them she's most happy to see.