Maizie

Maizie died today.

Maizie was a Cocker Spaniel and Poodle mix, and it was cancer that cut her life short. She belonged to our neighbors, Jim and Linda, who lived across the hall here in Little Tokyo in downtown Los Angeles. Maizie was a rescue dog and as such, she required a great deal of patience and training to learn how a dog behaves in a loving family, and how to interact with others in a busy apartment building. Her fur was curly and light colored, almost a khaki-tan, and she had expressive warm eyes that, when they looked at you, quickly let on that she was intelligent and aware. Occasionally, I would see her with Linda walking around the neighborhood. Although not large, she possessed a personal style and physical presence all her own; I was taken with how she stood at the curb of a busy intersection in such a nonplussed manner, calmly waiting for Linda to walk her across. She was a good dog and I liked her.

Early on, she was a bit of a barker but Jim and Linda worked on that problem, and she was usually a good girl. One day Shirley and I found ourselves in the elevator with Linda and Maizie. The dog was gazing at me from her position down on the floor when, perhaps a bit nervous over the strange company and close quarters, she let out a soft low “ruff’ of a bark as she looked up at me from below. I quickly barked back at her and she answered with a flurry of barks, and I responded with a flurry of my own louder than before. Suddenly we stood barking at each other as she moved back on her hind legs with Linda pulling on her leash and yelling at her to be quiet as Shirley hit me on the arm while admonishing me to stop. For me, the scene with the dog was all a delight, but when the elevator reached the ground floor, Linda quickly disappeared with Maizie, leaving me alone with my wife and her patented “I can’t believe you just did that” look on her face.

One Saturday evening, weeks later, Shirley and I sat talking as we enjoyed a drink before dinner. Out in the hall I could hear our neighbors coming down the corridor with Maizie. When they reached the door to our apartment, the dog gave out a quick “ruff’ of a bark just as she had done that afternoon in the elevator. Inside the apartment, I burst out laughing; this was Maizie’s way of telling me she knew I was in there and that she was neither dismayed nor cowed. Oh, it was truly precious and I loved her all the more.

Maizie died today.

(the above story first appeared in Word Catalyst Magazine)