Maci

Having newly started this blog about dogs, I find it appropriate to talk about my own, beloved, slightly mentally unstable pooch: Maci Mae (pictured above). She is - of course - three thousand miles away in my hometown of Poulsbo, Washington, but I still think about her all the time and often receive candid picture messages from my family of her licking the couch or stalking the coffee table.


Yea, she's a little off.


One of my favorite Maci stories is the day she wandered over to the neighbor’s yard on trash day. When Dad opened the back door to call her inside, there was no response. A little annoyed, he called again. This time, the bushes parted and out bursts my dog in all her glory, potato chip bag stuck on her head.


Dad nearly dies laughing. He calls my family out of the house the four of us stand on the porch and watch Lays with Legs run around the yard. Often she would stop, tilt her head left and right, then shake her head violently, but to no avail. After narrowly missing the porch steps and very decisively not missing a tree trunk, we chased her down and removed the bag. The sad thing was, she still managed to run into the barbeque on the way back inside.


I miss you, Maci!