Journal · Tribute

Maggie, the schmest dog ever

to

Maggie on a mountainside in golden fall grass, holding a stick wider than she is.
Inventor of fetch, on location.

Maggie always said she invented fetch. We argued with her about it, and about plenty of other things. The kids especially found themselves arguing with her. She never backed down.

She came home with Dan as a blue-eyed puppy with a toy almost as long as she was. In 2017, Drea and the kids came into her life, and they all fell in love. Fourteen years and ten months of Maggie, and it still wasn’t enough.

Puppy Maggie sitting next to a long yellow and green plush toy. Puppy Maggie trotting off with a stick while a golden dog follows.
Where it all started.

In our house we narrate the dogs’ thoughts, and Maggie always had plenty to say. She even had her own language, where just about every word starts with “schm.” The schm came from fetch. She treated every ball and stick like Gollum treated the Ring, so she became Schmeegs, and whatever she was bringing back was “my precious.” The name softened to Schmags with Drea, who softened Dan some too. The rest of the language came with it. Best is schmest. Lying belly-up with your feet in the air is schmaggin’ out. And she was our Schmags.

She called everybody dumb, but she said it was only so we’d get smarter. She was always looking out for us.

She was a mom, too. Dan kept one of her pups, and Junior was by her side for the next twelve years.

Maggie sitting in the grass with her tongue out, her litter of puppies behind the kennel fence.

Then Miso came along, and Maggie had herself a best friend.

Maggie resting on the couch with a tennis ball beside Miso, a sleepy black, white and tan puppy.

And then there was the time she hit Otto right in the nose with a stick. He sneezed over and over for a while. It was a sneeze stick.

Young Maggie trotting across the grass with a long stick in her mouth.
The sneeze stick.

This year she finally started to slow down. If you asked her, she was just pacing herself.

Maggie sitting in the passenger seat of the Jeep.
Riding shotgun in Sucia.
Maggie with her head out the Jeep window, reflected in the side mirror at a coffee drive-thru.
Coffee run co-pilot.

Here’s what she meant to each of us.

FromDan

Maggie as a puppy, looking up with blue eyes.

She picked me when I drove up to the farm where I got her from. She greeted the car as we pulled up and came right up to me. I have always felt like she picked me.

Although she was a terror as a puppy, she turned out to be one of the best dogs ever.

FromDrea

Drea and Maggie curled up together under a blanket on the couch.

If you know Springers, you know they have their own unique personalities. Maggie had one of the best. Her energy never stopped. It just occasionally paused while she recharged.

Maggie belly-up on the deck with a tennis ball still in her mouth. Maggie upside down on the couch, paws in the air and head hanging off the cushion. Maggie belly-up on the tile floor, feet in the air. Maggie upside down across her dog bed, legs sprawled over a shoe.
Schmaggin’ out.

We spent many, many days in the mountains with her. That is Maggie in her true element. She can fetch for hours, and if you add swimming to it, good luck getting her to stop. And whatever you do, be sure to protect your shins, because she will take them out.

Maggie wading through a creek with a stick in her mouth while a black and white Springer waits on the bank.
Fetch, plus swimming.
Maggie running straight at the camera across a snowfield, tongue out.
Incoming.

I remember the first time I saw her run up a rock that seemed to be vertical. She was crazy, and I fell in love with her as soon as I got to know her. I was lucky to have her as my all-time best friend, and there never will be another Schmags.

And in case you were wondering. She thinks you’re dumb.

Love you, Oldie Schmagdoodle!

Close-up of Maggie’s face with the word Duh above her head.
Maggie’s reply.

FromFeliz

Feliz on the couch with her arm around Maggie, who has a tennis ball in her mouth.

My favorite story of Maggie is one time when we were up in the mountains and we were sitting up there hanging out. She was just kind of trotting around, going in the water and stuff, and she totally came up and just sat with you and Mom for a while, and it was super cute. And then she went and totally mobbed Junior cuz he wasn’t coming when you guys called him back.

I just thought it was really funny. That, and when she makes fun of us for regular, everyday things.

FromJohn

Maggie asleep on the deck, paws tucked together.

Maggie was always the schmest. She was always the dog to go ahead of everyone when we are up in the mountains, she was always the dog to get the ball first while playing fetch, and she was always the dog to humble us and tell us we are dumb.

She would always talk about how she was smart and I was dumb, and of course I would fight back. But with her quick, witty nature, she would tell me I was fighting with a dog and then tell me I was dumb. I am going to miss sassy Schmags.

Maggie riding in the back seat in the sun, tongue out, with a black and white Springer beside her.
Mountain bound.
Maggie curled up on a blue armchair, giving the camera a sleepy side-eye.
Sassy Schmags.

The one thing I will miss the most is her greeting me every day when I got home from work.

Maggie stretched out on a blanket, looking straight up at the camera.

I love you, Maggie.

More Maggie

Young Maggie in profile, holding an orange ball in her mouth.
Young Maggie running through a field, soaking wet, ears flying.
Young Maggie grinning on the floor next to two black and white Springers.
Young Maggie resting her chin on the truck's center console.
Maggie sitting on the living room rug, looking up.
Maggie trotting across a snowfield, tongue out.
Maggie carrying a stick along a rocky mountain ridge while another dog runs behind her.
Maggie in the kitchen holding a blue spiky toy.
Maggie up on a leather couch eyeing a treat while two other dogs wait on the floor.
Maggie and two other dogs riding in the back of an old SUV.
Maggie with her head out the Jeep window at a drive-thru, beside a selfie from the driver’s seat.
Maggie lying on the rug, looking up at the camera.
Maggie lying in a doorway lit by colorful string lights.
Maggie in the backyard looking up while a black and white Springer leaps nearby.
Maggie walking across the backyard grass.
Maggie in the backyard with the tip of her tongue poking out.
Otto, a black and white Springer, sitting in an old tractor’s seat with his paws on the steering wheel.
A little girl in a pink jacket leaning over puppy Maggie, who has a stick in her mouth.
“Why are you so cute?”
Maggie upside down on a leather couch, chomping an orange figure-eight toy.
Maggie on a grassy creek bank while Otto stands in the water below, tongue out.
Maggie on the couch with the fur on top of her head tied up in a little purple ponytail.
Maggie giving a sideways look in the living room, with a small plane on the TV behind her.
Maggie wearing red sunglasses.
Maggie upside down and half asleep, snuggled against someone in a red shirt.
Maggie perched on the edge of a stock tank in a mountain meadow, with Otto in the water behind her.
Maggie lying on a blanket across the person taking a couch selfie, eyeing him, with the Christmas tree lit up behind her.
Maggie and another dog piled on top of a napping human on the couch.
Nap pile.

Maggie, you were a great dog. The schmest.

Wherever you are now, we know you’re already telling everybody you invented fetch.

Thank you for every stick, every swim, and every day you gave us. We love you, and we always will.

Good girl, Schmags.

Love, Dan, Drea, Feliz, and John (and Junior and Miso)

Maggie lying on a blanket with her orange and blue ring toy, looking at the camera.
Dog tag stamped: If you’re gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough. IF YOU’RE GONNA BE DUMB, YOU GOTTA BE TOUGH. IF YOU’RE GONNA BE DUMB, YOU GOTTA BE TOUGH.

for Chris

Notes for Maggie

Share a memory of Maggie, or just say hi to the family.

No account needed. Comments and photos show right away, so keep it kind; links aren't allowed. Besides your name, comment and the time, we privately keep roughly where you posted from and a scrambled stand-in for your network address, never the address itself. A photo's hidden details come off before it's posted; we keep privately when, where and on what camera it was taken, if it says. By posting, you let us share your comment and photo on this site and our channels (Privacy and posting).