My Life with Madigan

I have been so preoccupied with the death of one dog and the adoption of new one I have been uncreative in trying to write. Thus I have decided to write of this experience.

                                                           My Life with Madigan

My beloved dog, Petro, died unexpectedly.  Or so it seemed.  In retrospect there were signs:  listlessness which I attributed to old age, erratic appetite—only a bit more erratic for my fussy eater, gauntness without weight loss.

A massive stomach tumor explained the symptoms and ended his life.

The emptiness of a house occupied only by Petro and me since my husband’s death last year hung heavy.  Hence my daily treks alternately to the local Humane Society and the County Pound. Two Corgi-mixes proved too rambunctious for a nearly eighty year old widow. A tri-color Sheltie was reunited with its owner. Three mixed beagles in the early puppy stage scared me with their sheer puppiness. Then I saw the one.  A beagle-terrier mix stole my heart the minute I looked on his white coat with sable spots, his long graceful legs, his dangly sable ears framing his white face.

A first day walk around the Pound grounds and  a second  day walk despite the rain. The third day I returned to the Pound with collar and leash in my pocket.  A bank check and scheduled Vet appointment later I began my life with Madigan