For anyone who follows me on Instagram, you know that I am a fur mama. Since my own two daughters are off to college, my sweet boxer Maggie (often referred to as Maggie Moo) and sweet pug Chloe (lovingly referred to as Poo) are the focus of my attention.
We got Maggie when our girls were nine, which, in theory, is a great age for them to take responsibility for a pet. But, I'm a bit of a stickler for doing things MY way, so I ended up doing all the dog walking. And dog feeding. And dog washing.
You get the picture.
Needless to say, I bonded pretty strongly with Maggie, and she with me.
She was the best puppy. She learned to ring the bells hanging on the doorknob to let us know she needed to go outside. She slept quietly in her crate. She was the perfect pet. However, one day, while my attention was on something else, Maggie dug up a tree sapling I had just planted.
I brought this up with my daughters’ school principal (who also owned two boxers), and she recommended a play buddy for Maggie. I wasn't sure I wanted another large dog, so we go a pug instead.
Well, there is a big difference in a boxer and a pug, and it’s not just the size!
I was worried Maggie, having so much energy, would hurt such a tiny puppy (and Chloe was TINY!).
I had nothing to worry about, apparently. Chloe’s sharp puppy teeth protected her from any potential harm, and Maggie’s maternal instincts kicked in immediately. She looked out for her new “baby” in every way.
Now they are truly best buds. Where one is, the other follows. They find trouble together, too. But I’m so grateful they get along so well.
They also follow us around the house. Stop short, and risk having a dog bump into you! I can pretty much guarantee that they’ll hang out with me during my workout.
Maggie is a bit neurotic, and stresses out when we pack for vacation. We have to have a dog-sitter come because one time Maggie refused to eat at the kennel and lost 10 pounds in a week. She also truly hates having her photo taken, and I am forced to trick her into sitting and looking at the camera.
Chloe will sit and model all day (mostly because she’s hoping we’ll give her a treat!).
Maggie is ten now, and Chloe is nine. All the information says that boxers don’t typically live longer than a dozen years. I love my fur girls to the moon and back, and am so grateful for all the time we’ve had together so far!
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