Guilty feeling

In the days since Maggie died, I've been racked with guilt over the way I treated her at times. I'm sure it's a common feeling: when an old relative dad dies, you probably regret all the fights you had, and all the times you were frustrated with each other.

I was never mean to Maggie. But in the last few years of her life, helping take care of her became frustrating. She couldn't hear. She could barely see. She would pace the floor, get in your way, get tangled up in her leash, get her hair all over the clean part of the couch. She'd hover and beg for people food. She'd hog all the dog food and water. She'd drink too much, too fast, and puke. She'd drink out of the toilet. And she would pee. Often. In places where she shouldn't. Toward the end, she would go number two in her bed at night. She just couldn't hold it. And even though you felt sorry for her, those feelings of frustration often took over.

Taunia was such a great master to Maggie. She was patient and understanding. She was very protective. It's a commentary on what kind of mom she'll be one day. And the reality is, Taunia did most of the hard work when it came to taking care of Maggie. I had little to be frustrated about.

Now, my biggest frustration when it comes to Maggie is that I didn't enjoy every moment with her while she was alive.