Maggie was a puppy only a mother could love. We got her at seven weeks, before she should have left her mother. She flunked out of training school. After about three years of hell, she slowly began to mellow. Eventually she turned into a normal, wonderful golden retriever. She was affectionate in her own way.

But she was always an alpha. When we walked, she led the way. Her favorite game was Tug of War, and she only liked to win. By accident, I found out she would come running from wherever she was when I blew a whistle. Life was better for all of us after that.

Maggie was an insatiable eater. She loved every form of food available, and would wait in her kitchen spot for whatever was to come.

The unfortunate dog contracted tick-borne anaplasmosis very early. It flared occasionally through her life, controlled with anti-biotics. But at age nine, a flare-up led to serious coughing, and she succumbed. Indeed, she died in the back seat of our car on the way to the vet.