Doggone

To paraphrase the noted showman Carl Denham, "It wasn't chocolate cake. It was beauty killed the beast." In this particular version of the tale, the beast wasn't a forty-foot tall gorilla, but an animal more singularly impressive and noble: Our dog Maddie. She was a beauty, inside and out.
People would stop us and ask what breed she was. For years we would shrug our shoulders and listen to whatever theory this kind stranger would have to offer about our pet's lineage. "There's some pit in those shoulders," They might offer. Or, "Those ears tell me she's a shepherd." "The spots look like she's got some Dalmatian in her." For this reason, we called her "The Rorschach Hound."
We called her a lot of things: Maddie, Mad Dog, Maddie Gas Car, Madeline Albright. Mostly we called her ours. She was a member of our family and was always the most patient and forgiving of the Cavens. That didn't mean she wasn't capable of being forgiven herself. Over the years, she consumed her weight in tasty chocolate treats. Far from being the poison that so many dog experts told us it would be, chocolate seemed to have the effect of prolonging her life, not shortening it. If that were her only trick, it would have been a good one.
I taught her a trick. It was one I learned from watching the TV show "Taxi." Alex, played by Judd Hirsch, had a dog that he taught to played dead whenever you pointed a finger at him and shouted "Bang!" So enamored of this bit, I spent a weekend teaching Maddie how to do just the same. She took to it quite easily, especially since she knew that rolling onto her back would cause me to come over and scratch her belly to break the spell.
In the early morning hours of Tuesday, October 22, Maddie hopped up onto that Great Big Couch In The Sky. I pointed my finger at her, and made a little "bang." Best Trick Ever.
It will be some time before we are rid of all the genetic material that she left around our house. All that white fur that we always joked about using for making a rug, or cloning, it's going to be in our carpets and under our dressers for months to come. She won't be leaving our hearts anytime in the foreseeable future. Aloha, Maddie Caven. You truly stomped on the Terra.