Love You Madly, Maddie

Let me apologize about the lack of length, depth, or general epic awesomeness of this blog entry. And now of course I remember my high school drama teacher telling us to never apologize before a performance.

It's been a long week, so far as weeks before a vacation go. You wind down things at work and want to climb the walls in the last few hours as the sweet taste of freedom lingers in the air. I could envision the gleaming linoleum floors of DCA, waiting to welcome us as we boarded our flight. A wedding with friends and days at the beach house were so very close.

And yet the hardest part still remained: dropping the dog off at the sitter's and realizing we were more broken up about leaving her than she us. I figured Maddie would turn around once before being led into the house by her temporary guardians (which she did) and then there would be the expected amount of whimpering and panic at being separated from Mom and Dad.

But this was not to pass. After she glanced back and was assured by us that going with Erica was okay, Maddie happily shot up the stairs without a single lingering pull. I stood beside the car as my eyes filled with tears. And then I recognized it wasn't because I was sad for her transitional ease away from us, but because she was no longer the terrified pup I took home from a kill shelter five years ago.

The Maddie who couldn't stand to be anywhere but by my side had grown up. She was going to be just fine and this wasn't a feeling I was accustomed to. I cried for a minute, reassured by John, and then experienced the euphoric feeling of knowing someone you love is in the best care when not able to provide such care yourself.

I can only imagine what it will be like the day I have to watch my hypothetical kids go to kindergarten. Might need a (very) large sedative.