Maple Year, Maple Dear
My daughter, Erica, wrote this in 2012.
“This week, we marked the first birthday of our chocolate lab, Maple. Maple is an instrumental part of our household. Thanks to her, animals now hold majority rule over humans under our roof. Why, just last week, the three of them approved the direct deposit of my paycheck into a cat condo fund. I mean, it's ridiculous. 'Why did you vote for the cat condo?' I asked Maple. 'You're not going to get anything out of that. You need to stop allowing yourself to get bamboozled by the cats.'
She is still so young. When she wags her tail, her whole body sways back and forth. When she sees us at the end of a workday, she is so overwhelmed with happiness that Chuck and I have for now given up trying to train her to greet us gracefully. We just fall to the floor with her and let her joy wash over us. Even if that means that a flailing paw inadvertently smashes my nose and Chuck falls backwards as Maple flings the weight of her whole self on his lap, an echo of her early puppy days that have never left her -- and one I hope will never leave her.
We used to fret over so many stupid, stupid things when we first adopted Maple. Will she ever learn not to pee on our floors? Will she ever stop pulling on her leash and getting distracted by FLOWERS! and SQUIRRELS! and SKY! and walk like the other dignified dogs in our neighborhood? Will she ever understand us when we tell her to stay, and sit, and come home?
She has learned all of these things and so much more. She floors us every day with the depth of her maturity. She teaches us much-needed lessons about gratitude, joy and simplicity.
Our dog and cats make us feel like we lucked out in the most profound way. We've had a handful of grown-ass adult meltdowns between the two of us this year, and each time our animals made everything better.
We love these three with our whole hearts. But they are not getting a cat condo. Those things are fug.”
In 2016, during a layover in New Zealand on my way to Sydney, Australia, I received the heartbreaking news that Maple had lost her battle with lymphoma. Following her diagnosis, the death-dealing cancer had slowly sapped her boundlessly joyful energy and strength, leaving bald patches where her rich, shiny chocolate-brown coat used to be. Sitting alone at the airport, I wept copious tears for the loss of a dearly beloved family member. Maple gave us so much, and she will never be forgotten.
