Maggie May

My darling, beautiful Maggie died today.

Maggie was an Irish Wolfhound - a wonderful, kind, loving dog with amazing, trusting dark brown eyes. Maggie was nine and a quarter years old and was the shaggiest wolfie I've ever had - a really thick, long brindle coat; every so often she'd moult little short tufts of white underhair and when I brushed her the whole garden would be covered by flying tufts.

Everybody loved Maggie - the postman, the paper girl, but most of all Alan and me. She's going to leave a huge gap in our lives.

Misty, not her sister but related and only three and a half years old, is going to miss her too.

Maggie has gone to be with Bridie, Cassie and Molly Maguire - they're all running free, the wind streaming through their fur and no cares at all.

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.