An Ode To The Dog I Bought In My Twenties

We had a good run, Diegos. From the moment you put your little head on my shoulder until tomorrow when, well, I hope you do the same one last time, you have been the best furry friend I could have asked for in this point in my life.

Baby Noah

I got you at 25, as I’m now learning people do. Even though I bought a house three months before I bought you, it was you that taught me responsibility. How to read people. How to be a mom, even if that means cleaning pee off of your bottom and your bed twice a day or damn near punching the vet when he yanked your leg. With your fondness for cats, you prepared me to love all my children no matter how much I disagreed with their beliefs and actions. You made me a mama bear, ready for my Eggroll and anyone else who comes behind her.

Let Me Just Fix Your Hair...

You taught me about love. You tolerated the old boyfriend because you knew I needed to experience a long-term relationship before the fates gave me Randy. You, too, didn’t seem too sad once he left the scene and it was just you and me.  You still loved me even though I had to leave you in a cage for hours there at the beginning. Though I put you in costumes. Though I tried to make you hang with other dogs. Though I didn’t allow you on the furniture anymore. You didn’t care about these silly rules. You showed me to love my family unconditionally and to always show excitement when they walk in the door, whether its 15 minutes or 15 days since I’ve seen them last.

corgi dog

You let me hold you. I needed to hold you when I got the call that dad had his accident. When I got home from that trip sans said parent. When I got the next call about mom. When I lost baby #1. When I went all pregnancy wackadoo with baby #3 (and again when baby #3 was no more). On the other hand, you jumped up and down with me when Randy went to get dinner that night he proposed. You were the first to learn I was pregnant with Eggroll. You let me talk to you endlessly when this working from home business was starting to make me crazy. You NEVER let me cry without you trying to lick away my tears. That’s one of the reasons I know its time. You aren’t doing this anymore.

Since you’ve been around, I’ve lost parents, gained a husband, had a daughter. I’ve learned how to create wills out of thin air. How to start a business. The importance of life insurance. How to pick out lampshades. The shedding cycles of English-bred dogs. I’ve put on some pounds, but my face is thinner. My hair color has changed. My style is different. I drive a different car and have different plants growing in a different garden. Almost nothing is the same as the day we first met.

Corgi Napping

At first this made me sad. Made me weep for the girl I was and the life I had then. But then I realized you were the catalyst. With you, I got out of the hamster wheel that had me spinning in place, alone and in a job that provided a decent income but not much self-worth. Life now is great. It’s got gigantic holes where parents should be, but it’s great. I am fulfilled. So for that, thank you.

Family through a corgi's eyes

I’m trying to tell myself its time for me to let go of MY dog. MY life isn’t just MY life anymore. You are the last shred of evidence that I was once Maggie Skarich, association manager by day and goer-outer by night. That girl is gone. When I got you, we discussed you being around 15 years which would have taken me to 40. Perhaps that was too much to ask and why you are reneging on the contract. Perhaps you knew that by 35 it would be time for a new pet. One that Eggroll picked out and Randy paid for. One that sees my girl through middle school and me through hiring my first employees.

Oh, Noah, I am going to miss you so much. I’ll miss the never-ending piles of fur and constant barking. I’ll miss the games of fetch and the walks we went on. I’ll miss watching you sleep, all curled up with a blankie. I’ll even miss the shit breath.

A Lady and Her Corgi

In your honor, I will try not to mope. If you were with me when I walk out of that appointment, you would hop on my lap, lick off the tears, and hand me a ball to throw. With body language, you’d tell me to get on with it. I will, Little Man, but first I shall remember your life lessons:

  • Be willing to do anything for a cookie. It’s usually worth it.
  • It’s OK to push to be first.
  • Don’t ever let a person I care about be sad, even if that means putting on a chicken costume.

Corgi in a Chicken Costume

Please tell mom and dad and Max that I miss them so very much. I hope you are more comfortable wherever you are going. I hope there are hundreds of cats for you to befriend. I hope you can run around and get on the sofa and stand sentry at the window. Watch out for me, OK? Hopefully it’s a long, long time before I’m coming down your road, but it will be nice to know I’ve got one more spirit looking out for me.

I love you, Noah. Today I am grateful for you.

Noah and Me

The One Where I Sort Of Check Out

Hey guys and gals! Did you miss me?

Ok, did you even notice it’s been a few weeks since I posted?

Probably not.

There’s a little back story to my absence.

About six weeks ago, a husband of a friend started following me on Instagram. No big deal, right? Probably not, but when I went to look at his profile and pictures, it was all big-busted anime ladies in lingerie. Ick. I mean, go ahead and do your thing. Proclaim it to the world. But I don’t want you to have access to pictures of my daughter. Ick. Ick. Dog tick.

That got me thinking about how much access I want to give strangers. Answer: not that much. Ironically enough, as my work day becomes more and more about getting companies online, I want my personal life to come off.

Which brings us to a little change around here. Well, two changes.

  1. I’m not going to post as religiously as I have been. This is now going to be my place to just share random thoughts and pictures from my day-to-day. Some weeks I might have a couple posts. Other times, I might go a few weeks in between. If you’re starting to miss me, you could go to Filament’s site or my new semi-professional blog at The Maggie Joos one is all about food, so I’ll still have a place to discuss cookbooks, cooking classes and share recipes I think are awesome.
  2. From here on out when I do post pictures of Eggroll, discuss a controversial topic, or otherwise put up stuff I wouldn’t want to see on the front page of the newspaper, the posts will be password protected. So remember this:

The password answers this question: WHAT WAS MY HIGH SCHOOL MASCOT?

Easy enough, right?

A Note for Subscribers

If you came to this site because you wanted deep yogic thoughts or clean eating recipes, my apologies. This is probably not the place for you anymore. You are welcome to jump on the mailing list and/or to cancel your subscription here at any point. Just scroll all the way to the bottom of your email to find the “unsubscribe” button.

I’m sorry I’m making you jump through hoops just to read my nonsense, but the internet creeps killed it for the rest of us. That’s probably the answer for many issues in the world today.

In the meantime, I’d love to know – how do you decide what gets posted or not? Do any of you not allow any pictures of your children online?

Eggroll is just too darn cute not to share with the world!


#TBT of Epic Proportions

Woo doggies! My original plan was to jump into the Charleston and Confederate flag fray and tell y’all about my experience working right off the capitol building back in 2000 when we were having this debate the last time.

Turns out I must have done that already, because this was the only picture I could find. There weren’t as many people there as I remembered. I hope there are even less of them this time.

Confederate Flag Protests 2000

(Pay no attention to the ’94 at the bottom of the image. This was back when we had actual film and I could never get the date right on that camera…)

So instead of telling the story of why I didn’t get a date in college because I was a Yankee, let’s look at all the other reasons I was not the pick of the litter in my teens and twenties.

First up, we have this sweet-smelling memory from cheerleading camp. Please meet Fred. Fred wore Joop, that department store cologne that still stops me in my tracks. I’m glad to see he’s just as pretty as I remembered. WTH is going on with my chipmunk cheeks though??

Let’s also note the fold in the picture where I must have tried to crop Nikki out. 15-year-old girls are fun.

Fred and The Introduction to the Good Smelling Man

Next up let’s go to a table at Denny’s. Yes, if it was midnight on a Friday, you were bound to find my high school friends and I at a Denny’s. Probably after cruising. Probably eating a bunch. Probably being goofy. We went through a phase where we tried to perfect our own version of American Gothic. This one is pretty good. Man, we were idiots.

Milwaukee Gothic

Then, let’s cross over from high school to college (and/or my career in real estate.) First, we have one of my Glamour Shots images. My whole JV cheerleading squad got these pictures done. I had an 11 X 17 of me in my cheerleading uniform up in Southridge Mall for a few months. It’s still in my basement if you want to see. Hey, I don’t have many brushes with fame, so I had to keep proof.

And then there’s Amber and I doing our professional wrestler stances. Good Christ.

Glamour Shots

Somewhere in this general time frame, mom had a hip replacement surgery right around Thanksgiving, so I got to take the reins. Let’s note a few things.

1. I loved that shirt. I wish I still had that shirt.

2. See that TV screen? There is a big old regular TV directly out from the direction I am facing. Why there was a TV wasting counterspace is beyond me.

3. Huh. Looks like I did do dark hair before.

4. Food – it was meant to be.

First Thanksgiving

Speaking of meant to be, check out teenage Noah. He’s all ears and legs in this picture. Even he had an awkward phase!

Teenage CorgiI think that’s enough embarrassment for one post. Enjoy!