Megan's Story

In the early spring of 2001 my brother in law was walking down a snowy country road outside of Charlevoix, Michigan with his dog. A cardboard box lay in his path and he kicked it aside as he walked by.
And the box yelped.
He picked it up, removed the tape and found a very small -perhaps 3 weeks old - black lab puppy inside. Tucking the puppy into his jacket he and his dog made their way back home. My In-laws decided that my husband, Jack, should have the puppy since she resembled his previous dog - a large Black Lab/Shepherd mix named Fido.
Jack was thrilled- me? not so much. I was busy at that time raising two small children and running herd on them, their friends, and their cousins. I was also managing our contracting business and leading a troop of girl scouts. A small - and soon to be rambunctious- puppy was not anywhere near the top of my To-Do List.
But Jack was in love. He named her Meg - after his favorite actress Meg Ryan, an honor I'm sure she would've found dubious! - and proclaimed her his 'Truck Dog".
 The next morning Jack took Meg with him in his work truck ,so proud of his new Truck Dog- who promptly got car sick two blocks down the road and threw up all over him and the front seat.
 Megan came home to me- the puppy I did not want. Over the next few weeks Meg ate one of every shoe in the house, stole all of the toys from our older dog Luke, terrorized our Siamese cat , Madison (an activity that is akin to taunting a bull with a red table cloth. ) and unraveled a 4ft by 4ft square of my new wall to wall Berber carpeting in the living room. She was a black blurr of uncontrolled and joyful energy and despite the wake of destruction she left in her path I grew to love her.
 When Meg turned about 4 months old Jack decided to give the 'truck dog' thing another go and took Megan with him on a quick run to the car wash. I had a friend over visiting... A half hour or so into our visit Jack showed up wild eyed and panting in the kitchen. My friend and I looked at each other quizzically - neither of us had heard the truck pull up nor was the dog with him. He tore around the kitchen frantically shoving papers and letters out of the way muttering and cursing under his breath. I screwed up my courage and asked - carefully - what was the matter. He said he had pulled into the car wash - a do it yourself deal - got out and left the truck running so Meg could have the air conditioning and not get too hot. He began spraying off the truck ; Meg was so excited by the spraying water she chased it all over the cab-from the inside- bouncing off the windows and doors trying to play with it. And locked all of the cab doors from the inside in the process! Apparently my husband attempted to aim the spray of water at the arm rests  so that Meg would jump there again  and hit the lock buttons to unlock it but this did not work at all.
So he began the walk home to find an extra set of keys so that he could get into the truck and get back home. Of course - half way through this rant my friend and I were laughing and crying hysterically which made him all the madder which - of course- made us laugh even harder! Extra keys were found and Jack got back into his truck and all was well. It was many months before he took Megan-the-truck-dog with him again...
Years passed and Meg charmed us all - she was funny, loving, and playful. She got along well with our older dog Luke- so well in fact, that when Luke got out and ran (he was a coyote/husky mix and was gone like a shot the minute a door opened) Meg was right with him. During one of these mad-dashes is when we found out about Meg's health problems - or the beginning of them, anyway. While tearing across the street after Luke one afternoon Megan hit a car. No-that was not a typo. Megan hit a car- the car did not hit Megan. The poor man driving felt so terribly that we promised him we would take her to the vet though she had already picked herself up, shook herself off and trotted back to the house. Good to our word we brought Meg to the vet and xrays were taken. Dr Julie brought the films in and showed them to me- which meant nothing to me, quite frankly. She told me that if she was only shown the films and not shown a health record she would have said they were from a dog aged 12-13 years old dog. Megan was 3 at the time. Julie patiently explained to me what we were seeing - a spinal column that was fused a third of the way up and would continue to do so for the duration of Megan's life. It is a birth defect and caused by 'back yard breeding' -- breeding dogs for quick money and with no regard for potential health risks or defects. We were told that this issue alone would mean euthanasia at about 7years old for our dog.
  It was devastating news but it also seemed unreal; Megan showed no signs of discomfort, she ran, jumped, swam like a fish and was the happiest dog I had ever been around. In fact- that genuine happiness is what defined our girl - she loved us and she loved life-completely and without reservation. And she was FUNNY! We had a large yard and in the summer months we and our neighbors would sit around a camp-fire in the back section of the yard. It was very dark except for the light of the fire. Megan loved these evenings but would roam if we didn't watch her. I would notice now and again that she was not laying next to me and would call for her- with no response. I would call and call and no Megan. But when I got up to find her she was - miraculously - right there, just outside the light of the fire. It didn't take long for us to catch onto this game - Megan had gone nowhere but would stand just outside the glare of the fire and being all black was impossible to see. So we clipped a glow stick to her collar. This didn't deter her at all- she still stood as still as a statue just outside the firelight -- with a great big blue glow stick lighting her up like a torch! We still pretended like we couldn't find her so she could have her game :-)
 When Megan turned 4 another health issue reared its ugly head- epilepsy. We awoke one night to a large crash that occurred when Megan had apparently fallen down the stairs. She stumbled and drooled and we thought she had had a stroke. An emergency visit to the vet gave us the diagnosis of Epilepsy- another breeder issue and common to Labradors. Scary as it was we all got used to watching for the tell-tale signs of an episode coming on and would clip on her leash, have her lay down and calmly talk her though the next 20 minutes to half hour of a grande mal seizure.
 And yet she remained happy.. always happy...
In Megan's 5th year Luke passed away and Macey - my brother in law's dog that was with him when he found Megan in the box - came to live with us. Macey was a large husky/malamute mix (130 lbs!) who was an outside farm dog for her whole life. At 10 years old no one wanted her anymore so we brought her home. It took my son 4 days to coax her into the house- she had not spent more than a night or two in a home. Once inside Megan shared all of the babies, the toys and the balls and loved Macey something fierce. Macey tolerated this like a good grandma-dog and settled into life as a house dog. We were told that due to her very poor health we should consider our home a hospice for Macey and that she might have a year. Macey and Megan enjoyed 4 years of their lives together before Macey's heart condition became too much and we had to say good bye. Megan was 9 and Macey was 14. The loss of Macey and Luke took a toll on Meg who developed an anxiety disorder (separation anxiety) that worsened her epilepsy terribly. She began taking phenobarbital to stop her seizures that were now clustering and taking over 45 minutes to subside. Once this was taken care of her anxiety settled and she settled into being an 'only dog' --with cat siblings - for the first time in her life. Gradually medications were added for her worsening back and arthritis and when she was 12 she had a severe pancreatic attack that nearly killed her. While not always a result of breeding, in Meg's case we were all fairly certain in could be traced back to that. After several days at the vet's she was released with more meds, a special diet and strict instructions that she could eat nothing but the special food.

 And STILL she was happy. Megan continued to astound us in that she rallied every time as the happy, funny and fun loving girl she had always been. Never once was she snappy or sullen. We went for walks, she enjoyed the beach and loved to play in the snow. And while we noticed that her endurance was not what it once was she still remained happy and ready to go at a moment's notice.

 And then Megan slipped and dislocated her left hip. She was sedated and the hip slipped back in but it wouldn't stay due to the calcification that had occurred with her arthritis. At 13 the other hip went out of joint. While still happy and emotionally with us we noticed that this was all beginning to take a toll on our girl. She was now taking 6 medications twice a day and could walk a block at the most. We took her on two more trips with us - to New Orleans in Oct and to Virginia in March.  Beginning in the spring of this year we had to help Meg up and down stairs. By early summer walks were done and she and I would explore her own yard and I took her for car rides. By August Megan was no longer happy and meds could no longer manage her pain and we were face to face with the hardest decision ever- to say good bye to the best dog in the world because it was the best thing for HER.
  A week ago we did that. Jack and I and the vets that had cared for her for so long.. we hugged her and talked to her and watch her slip out of the body that had caused her so much pain and grief.

(above) Jack, Megan and jack Sr- she loved to be held :-)

So why am I writing this story? First for me - because I will miss my best friend terribly for the rest of my life while forever celebrating the wonder and joy she gifted to me over the years. Megan taught me to be a better human by being a great dog. 

But also to impress upon who ever reads this to NOT support back yard breeders and to PLEASE spay and neuter your own pets. Megan was dumped and left to die when she could not be sold. We all lucked out - our family and her - that she was found. But so many do not 'luck out' and Megan suffered a great many years of discomfort and pain due to unethical breeding.  Please please please -- adopt your companion from your local shelter or rescue. Do not buy from the neighbor or the craigs list ad. Please don't breed your animal for profit and add more shelter animals to the already over populated crates and kennels. 

Please be the kind of human that your dog thinks you are. I know I will be forever changed for the better from knowing mine.