RIP Margo

RIP Margo

(2011-2023)

I’m sad to let everyone know that Margo (aka Miss Channing, the Purloined Pooch, Margolicious, Monkey, and The $10,000 Dog) took her final bow this afternoon. 

In the first of the dozen years she’s lived in my home, she wormed her way into my heart and will be there always. When I adopted her back in 2011, the lady on the other end of the phone told me that poodles were very bright and cocker spaniels were very stubborn, and asked if I was prepared for that particular combination. I assured her that I was, and little Margo has been smartly and stubbornly getting her way ever since.

Briefly famous for a thirty-six hour absence after being absconded by thieves when she was four, an outrageous sum of money was procured as a reward for her safe return, and Margo lived to tell the tale for another eight years. And she was worth every penny. Sometimes, apropos of nothing, we’d lock eyes and I’d say, “we got you back, honey.” And I know everyone imagines their dogs to be more human than canine, but she got it.

Those thirty-six hours would later become the inspiration for my first (only, but I’m being optimistic) published novel, Loyalty, Love & Vermouth. It warms my heart that people who never met my little dog or scratched her ears or tossed her a ball tell me they feel like they know her based on reading the book.

Fame is a burden Margo never asked for, but she handled it well - in exchange for writing the book, she got two extra treats every morning.

Margo was not the clingy sort. Typically, when arriving home, she would rush to greet me and accept a few pats and scratches as is the custom, then run to the other side of the room and bite into a squeaky toy as loudly as possible, just to let me know that she was very very very happy to see me but a diva needs her personal space. Only in the mornings did she ever feel the need to cuddle. Those moments, when her desire for a belly rub temporarily overrode her desire for breakfast, will probably be the memories I cherish most.

The pandemic which kept everyone inside their homes for most of 2020 and 2021 was hard on everyone but our dogs. Truth be told, Margo loved it. And today, I’m very grateful that these last few years I was in her company every day, nearly all day.

Being a diva is hard work.

Margo

(2011-2023)

But we got out occasionally. Since even before the pandemic, my favorite kind of social gathering is a “wine and puppies” night, where friends would descend upon a host’s living room with dogs and bottles. As Margo was one of the oldest dogs in the canine clan, some referred to her as the “grande dame” of our little group, which included Lola (RIP), Judy, Foster, Dash (RIP), Dodger, Dexter, Starbuck, Boomer, and Polo (who was named after Margo, in a way … sound it out if you don’t get it). But her BFFs were always Cara, with whom she spent many an evening while I was away on business, and Windsor, who she loved to visit at the beach.

In February, I brought Margo to the vet to look at a little bump on her tummy, hoping it was a harmless fatty tumor. It turned out to be lymphoma in its very early stages. They told me she had a month left, maybe two. She lasted almost three, but just recently lost her sight, and became increasingly lethargic. The “long goodbye” was tough, but knowing she was playing her final act allowed me to monitor her well-being and bring the curtain down gently before she experienced too much pain. She always knew how to make an entrance, but I’m grateful that her final exit was quiet, peaceful, and not very dramatic. It will make the good times that much easier to remember. Not that it would ever be hard.

Sleep well, Margo. You’ve been a very good girl.