Meg comes home one more time ~ August 31, 2005

David Heiller

We had an interesting experience here three months ago. Or should I say Meg had an interesting experience.

Meg was a Llasa-poo dog belonging to my sister-in-law, Nancy Olson, of Brooklyn Park, Minnesota. They were a duo for the last 16 years, almost inseparable.

When they arrived for our anniversary party in late May, it was obvious that Meg did not have long to live. She had no energy, no spring in her step. In fact she could barely manage a shaky walk, and she weighed no more than six pounds.

Nancy and Meg

About halfway through Saturday afternoon, in the bustle of the big day, Nancy discovered that Meg was missing. We brushed it off at first. No time to worry about a dog, she’s hiding in the house, we’ll find her later.

Nancy looked and looked for Meg, and soon other people did too. They searched the house, because Meg had not gone outside, at least that anyone could recall. No Meg. She wasn’t in the house.

Nancy searched outside too. She ventured into the tall grass, which must have been like a jungle to little Meg. Nancy went into the dark barn while we danced in the hay loft. She fell down in the gutter, wrenched her knee, could barely stand up afterwards. She was determined to find her friend. It was kind of amazing to watch Nancy’s determination. But no Meg. It was a sobering end to a very rich day.

Nancy left about noon the next day without Meg, to consoling words from her friends and family. Meg apparently had gone off to die, as creatures great and small are known to do.

That Sunday night at about 8 p.m., while we were sitting on the deck admiring a beautiful rainbow, the phone rang. A neighbor who lives 1-1/2 miles away asked if we were missing a little black dog. Sure enough, it was Meg. She had wandered all that way, spent the night in the woods, dodging coyotes and owls, and emerged the next evening unhurt.

When we picked Meg up, she was full of burdock, but otherwise seemed fine. She even seemed to have some of the sparkle back in her black eyes, like she was proud of what she had done. Meg and Nancy had a happy reunion the next day.

It was a miracle to me, but maybe it should not have been. Animals have survival skills that run deep in their genes. Meg was a house dog and a city slicker and a senior citizen. She usually had a ribbon in her hair or a kerchief around her neck. But she knew what to do to survive, to keep going. I know a lot of people with those same skills.

The effort gained Meg three more months of life. She died on August 21 at her home. Nancy asked if we would bury her. That seemed like a very appropriate thing, something that Meg would not mind a bit. We were honored by the request. It may sound weird, but a home isn’t quite complete to me without a few pets in the yard.

So Nancy brought Meg back down for her final journey. I found a very nice spot by the house, and marked it with a spirea courtesy of Janene Hosch. I predict that plant will have a long and healthy life. It will always be a reminder of a courageous little dog and Nancy’s best friend, Meg.