Meg Himmelstein, 1994-2007

My dear dog Meg died on Thursday, at the ripe age of 13. Though she slowed down in her later years, Meg is best remembered as a vivacious, if not hyperactive, pet. She often overwhelmed visitors with her energetic greetings that at times knocked them off their feet. She loved to eat and had the unfortunately ability to digest almost anything; she had a special fondness for paper products, but also gulped down sticks of butter, apple cores, blocks of cheese still in their wrappings, paychecks, and really anything she could get her jaws on. She was so fond of apples that she would sit and watch my mother with an unblinking stare when she made apple pie, a puddle of drool collecting at her feet. She had a special relationship with our backyard pool; all day long, she would patrol its border, and when its filter turned on every afternoon, she would run around it, frantically barking, her tail wagging like mad. Yet this dog never swam a stroke in her life. (One day, her bottom half fell in the pool but she pulled herself out with a surge of adrenaline).

Meg was above all a loyal pet. She was an excellent guard dog, and her home was her castle. She was never more happy than when someone she loved walked through the door. She had a unique way of showing affection I have never observed in any other dog: she would run up to you and rub the top of her head hard against your legs. Of course, she appreciated if this was accompanied by a nice ear scratch. She was friendly and loving and always enthusiastic. Meg, we will miss you.