An Ode To Maggie

Maggie's first potty break at her new home.

By Mary Boyle

My family always had at least one dog growing up, but the first one that was truly mine was Nikita – a dainty black and white Siberian Husky with ice blue eyes that my then boyfriend and I adopted just shy of my twentieth birthday.  We still lived with my family and, to be honest, I was not a great puppy mom, although I didn’t know that until later.  Luckily, Nikita seemed to mature a lot faster than I did.  She withstood our young adult years, was with us when I married that boyfriend, and seemed a wise lady by the time I introduced her to our first child in 2002 and our second in 2005.  The kids never truly bonded with her – too many chewed up toys and too much stolen food, I suspect – but it broke mine and my husband’s heart when it was time to say goodbye in 2009.  She was fourteen years old and she had been with me nearly all of my adult life, but she had snapped at me when I tried to brush her – something she’d never done.  We knew she was ready, but we weren’t so sure.  Having to make the decision to let her go was so hard that it took nearly a decade before I could even think about getting another dog but, when I began to look, I knew exactly what I was looking for.

My kids were 16 and 13 years old.  I could see the empty nest looming on the horizon and I knew what I needed: a transition baby of the furry kind.  A furry baby that my husband and the kids couldn’t help but adore.  She needed to be a girl; she needed to be rolly polly, a bit chonky, somewhat lazy, and ridiculously snuggly – the type of dog that would lay on my feet and keep them warm while I wrote at my computer and curl up with us while we watched movies.  She needed to be just a little bit snergelly and snuffelly and gross, because my youngest was a gross-a-phobe and I wanted to overcome that by putting the gross in the most compelling package possible (this was a pretty solid theory that totally ended up working, by the way).  I was leaning towards a French Bulldog or a Pitbull – there was just something about those square-shaped heads.  We kept an eye on all the adoption websites, yet the right candidate did not appear. 

Then, on the evening of December 30, 2018, I had just finished posting my weekly newsletter on Facebook and switched to my personal page when the images of three puppies popped up.  “Puppies for sale, $200 each. Eight weeks old. Moving and must find homes asap.”  There were two solid blue ones, but the third had white socks and markings.  The Universe whispered into my ear, “That’s the one.”  I messaged the poster and attempted to find out more about the parentage, so we might have an idea of how big this puppy might get and what her temperament might be, but her answers were somewhat evasive – it was clear that she didn’t want us coming to her, which wasn’t exactly comforting.  The one I wanted was a tricolor, I was told, which meant she was more valuable – $400 for her – they were purebred American Pit Bull Terriers, after all, and had papers.  I wasn’t sure we were really getting anywhere via texts and went to bed with uncertainty about it all.  Then, on New Year’s Eve morning, I got a text from her saying that someone was interested in one of the other puppies and she would be meeting them at the Bed, Bath & Beyond parking lot in Mequon, if I wanted to meet her there.  I told my family to get in the car – we were going to see a puppy!
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The day was cold and rainy.  We walked up to the minivan, and she slid open the side door.  There on the seat – not in a box or even a blanket – two tiny puppies were fast asleep.  I gently picked up the tricolor one and the first thing I noticed was that she had no toes on her back right foot, just the main pad.  The woman said the mother got her toes when she bit the placenta to break it, but she’d been to the vet and she was fine.  We took her to a sheltered overhang, out of the cold rain, and put her down to make sure she could walk.  She shivered as she took a few steps, and that was enough for me.  I quickly retrieved her and looked at my husband; he looked at our oldest and asked, “Is this the one.”  They smiled and nodded.  My youngest reminded us all that this was our dog and they were not responsible for this puppy’s care in any way, shape, or form, to which we agreed.  My husband handed over the money, knowing it was probably highway robbery, but we figured she needed it more than we did. The puppy slept on my oldest’s lap while we stopped at the pet store for supplies, then we took our new baby home.

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Maggie's first ride in her stroller.

From the moment I scooped that little toeless nugget out of that minivan, she assumed the role of the sun in the solar system of our family; we immediately arranged our lives around her. We named her Lady Margaret Alma Muldoon Boyle, the Toeless Lass of Tuam, but we mostly just called her Maggie.  She was the #ToelessTerror, the majestic pibble monster, and a thousand variations of her name, from “Magpie” to “puppy-nugget” to the more formal “Margaret”.   I asked and the Universe delivered.  I needed a baby, and she was so clingy that I finally wore her in a baby wrap so I could get things done, because she wouldn’t sleep unless she was being held.  A couple of weeks after we brought her home, I realized I never got her actual birthdate, so I messaged the woman, who unthinkingly told me the truth: November 14, 2018.  This meant Maggie was only six weeks old when we got her, not eight, as we were told (which honestly explained a lot).  When I asked about her paperwork, she replied, “My husband has it and he’s locked up, right now.”  Not that I really believed she had paperwork, anyway, but what was I to say to that?  Turns out an American Pit Bull Terrier isn’t recognized by the AKC, anyway.  Who knew?

When we took her to her first vet appointment, we discovered another lie.  We told the vet what we were told about Maggie’s missing toes and he actually laughed.  The real cause, he explained, was a congenital birth defect, a certain sign of bad breeding.  Bad breeding aside, Maggie had us all wrapped around her remaining toes.  I thought it would be a year before my youngest would dare to touch her, but Maggie proved irresistible, and within weeks she claimed a snuggle buddy; in fact, my youngest, despite the refusal to have any responsibility, ended up being the majority puppy watcher (a fact they loved to hold over us on a regular basis).  My oldest used their own money to buy Maggie a bike trailer/stroller for when her nubbin foot became too tired to walk on, and the comments we heard when people realized there was a pit bull where a child should be were priceless.  For my husband, Maggie ran to the door to meet him each day when he came home, which made his day (Lord knows the two teenagers and the busy wife couldn’t be counted on for such a welcome!).

We knew that Maggie’s toeless situation would probably cause some additional healthcare issues, and that was true.  After an x-ray to get a better look at what was going on, we saw that not all of her toe bones were missing: there was one, shaped like a sharp triangle, threatening to poke through the skin at the edge of where her foot met the pad.  No wonder she couldn’t walk long distances.  Our vet at the time thought it best to wait until Maggie’s spay surgery to remove the sharp bone, so as to avoid excess anesthesia, but we wanted to wait until Maggie went through a heat cycle before we did the surgery (this has been shown to decrease health issues later in life, such as incontinence), so we had to wait.  Maggie had her cycle and the surgery was scheduled several weeks out, to allow time for all the reproductive organs and tissues to return to normal; however, before we made it to surgery, Maggie had a false pregnancy, so we rescheduled again.  Before that surgery could take place, she went into heat, again, followed closely by yet another false pregnancy! 

All this hormone business turned out to be just a foreshadowing of more health battles to come.  During her false pregnancy, she had developed a rash at the top of her tail and had started to scratch frequently, along with having very goopy eyes.  When I took her in, our vet decided, without any kind of testing, that it was probably seasonal allergies and suggested we put her on steroids.  This shocked me.  Maggie wasn’t even a year old, yet, and steroids have a lot of side effects.  I decided to look for a second opinion and hopefully a more natural way of dealing with the issue, which began to get worse.  The second vet offered Apoquel, which is the current drug of choice for the rising tide of itchy pets, but it was very expensive and wasn’t a cure – meaning she would be on it for life – so, I decided to keep looking before I doomed her to a shortened life on a prescription drug.  This is when we found Dr. Sue at Thrive Wholistic Veterinary Care in Thiensville, where we were offered the most sensible next step: a simple saliva test to check for food sensitivities. 
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What we learned from the test was that our poor puppy was allergic to almost everything – in fact, there were very few commercially made dog foods that we could give her, as she was allergic to all grains, white fish, eggs, and dairy of any kind.  As luck would have it, there was a relatively new pet store called One Wag in Port Washington, where we lived, and the owner, Emily Monroe, had a passion for helping people with their pet’s diet.  I had been determined to get Maggie as healthy as possible before her surgery and, though it took several weeks, changing her diet did the trick.  I remember walking with Maggie in Port just before her surgery and a woman exclaimed about how beautiful and healthy Maggie’s coat looked.  “You must be feeding her very well,” she’d said, and I was: Stella & Chewy’s Limited Ingredient Duck dog food, which Emily had helped us find.  

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Maggie, placing her order at One Wag in Port Washington.

​Finally, Maggie had the big surgery: spay, foot, and microchipped.  I hadn’t realized how worried about her I was until we finally brought her home and I could breathe.  Eventually, her foot and incision healed up, but the itching returned, along with terrible hives and rashes.  At first, I thought it was because the mandatory antibiotic after the surgery had messed up her immune system, but no amount of probiotics seemed to help.  This second journey to heal Maggie’s rashes, hives, and itchiness lasted for the rest of her life.  We tried improving her diet, first, with Honest Kitchen, then switched to a full raw food diet with Steve’s Real Food, then finally Tucker’s Beef & Pumpkin, which seemed to agree with Maggie the best.  We also, on a recommendation from Emily, tried BICOM Therapy at Country Care Animal Complex in Green Bay, WI.  Similar to muscle testing/kinesiology, this testing allowed us to determine other household things Maggie was reacting to, such as laundry detergent, and also gave us insight into what caused the allergies in the first place: her rabies vaccination, according to the vet, who recommended that Maggie avoid that particular one in the future.

Though Maggie made good progress using BICOM therapy, the itching and rashes would always return, but generally with less frequency and ferocity.  Since diet was what had given us the most results, we decided to put more focus there.  This is the regimen that ultimately gave us the best results.  Was it expensive and time consuming?  Yes.  However, so are pharmaceuticals and trips to the vet, so we made it work.

Breakfast – 1 c. of frozen Wyman’s Wild Blueberries (Costco in Grafton), 1 apple, 2 celery sticks pulsed in a blender then added to her dish with Bixbi’s Skin & Coat (One Wag), 3 drops each of Vimergy Liquid Zinc and B12, a sprinkle of Vimergy Barley Grass Juice powder, 1 capsule/1 tsp. of Vimergy Micro C (https://vimergy.com/), ProDen PlaqueOff Powder (One Wag), and sometimes Bark & Whiskers Complete Probiotics, along with enough water to mix in the powders.

Snacks –Celery sticks (Maggie’s absolute favorite!), apple or pear slices, fresh raspberries or blackberries, radishes, cucumber, asparagus, red or yellow bell peppers, and sometimes carrots.  Closer to dinner, on nice days when she could eat it outside, we’d give her the best treat of all: a frozen raw grassfed beef marrow bone from Outpost in Mequon (Wisconsin Meadows offers a raw dog food subscription, as well, but it is pricey).  If lean beef went on sale, we’d sometimes slice it up and dehydrate it for a beef jerky snack, as well.
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Dinner – 1 # patty of Tucker’s Beef & Pumpkin (Feed Bag Pet Supply), two squirts of Natural Dog Company Salmon Oil, and a sprinkle of dried or fresh parsley.

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Maggie in her Pittie Clothing Co. pajamas, which helped keep her from scratching.

​This past summer, I finally thought I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Her rashes on her stomach, which had plagued her for the past 4 years, were finally gone, and her face and tail were nearly clear, we were just waiting for the hair to fully grow back.  Unfortunately, the light at the end of the tunnel turned out to be a train headed right for us.

On September 30th, 2024, we found a lump on Maggie’s lower abdomen and thought it was a hernia – not a medical emergency, but obviously we needed an exam to confirm. Over the week, while I worked on getting her an exam, she was clearly becoming uncomfortable and more tired.  When our oldest had a rare night home from college that following weekend, Maggie spent the whole night with her, which was unheard of – she always ended up back in bed with my husband and I in the middle of the night. The clinic I wanted to work with in Brookfield never got back to me.  When I contacted them on Monday, Oct. 7th, they informed me that the earliest they could see us was December.  Unacceptable.  I finally got an exam for Oct. 22nd at Fredonia Veterinary – the earliest I could, which seemed preposterous.  That night, we barely slept because Maggie was so uncomfortable; I resolved to call every clinic within a 50-mile radius in the morning to get an appointment sooner but, luckily, Fredonia called that morning and said they could see her.

Dr. Megan and the technician were lovely with Maggie.  We learned that it wasn't a hernia, at all; all Maggie's lymph nodes were swollen. Her bloodwork was “perfect”, the Lyme and heartworm test came back negative, but the lymph test was inconclusive, though lymphoma was suspected. Just in case, they ran a panel of other tick borne diseases and started her on an antibiotic and painkiller (doxycycline and carprofen) while we waited for results and hoped the antibiotic would work.  For a few days, Maggie did seem a bit livelier, but then the lethargy returned and, worse, she became less interested in eating and more interested in drinking water.  We had to wait nearly a week for the results of the panel to come back; then, on Monday, the 14th , we were told the test came back negative and we could stop the medications.  We were referred to Blue Pearl in Port Washington, where the soonest we could get in was Thursday.

Tuesday was the last day I could get food in her – exactly three spoonfuls.  I was so worried that I contacted Fredonia and asked if we could get Maggie in and just give her a shot of prednisone (although we didn’t have a firm lymphoma diagnosis, it was all but confirmed and we knew we weren’t going to pursue chemo, so prednisone is the usual course).  All we wanted was for her to be with us through the next week, so that our oldest could get home to say goodbye.  Fredonia said that giving Maggie prednisone would make it impossible for Blue Pearl to get an accurate diagnosis, but they recommended we bring her to the ER.  Blue Pearl in Port Washington also operates as an ER, so I contacted them on Wednesday morning.  The technician there said that if Maggie was still drinking water, she could wait for her Thursday appointment. 

I barely slept the night before the appointment and was so grateful that my husband could join me for it.  We had never seen this doctor before, and I was a bit taken aback when they took Maggie away for the initial examination.  When the doctor returned, he suggested the possibility that Maggie could have blastomycosis and not lymphoma, recommending a chest x-ray that would help rule that out, as well as doing another lymph fluid test on a more swollen gland in order to hopefully get a firm diagnosis of lymphoma, if that’s what it was, along with an ultrasound and more bloodwork.  When the x-ray came back clear, we were assured that it was probably lymphoma and, indeed, the positive test result came back that afternoon.  Maggie walked into the clinic, but we had to carry her out.  We were sent home with a bottle of prednisone and a 1–3-month prognosis, but we were supposed to wait until the following morning to give her the prednisone so it wouldn’t cause an ulcer from the last dose of carprofen.  Considering Maggie’s current condition, one to three months was a lifeline. I had so much hope; I was so certain she’d be with us when my oldest got home and, who knows, maybe even for Christmas!

Thursday night was the longest and most terrifying night of my life.  Maggie refused to sleep in our bed, so I grabbed a pillow and quilt and slept on the floor with her, following her every time she got up and moved.  Around 2 a.m. I tried giving her the dose of prednisone, but she did her best to spit it out; I wasn’t sure how much I got in her.  I was told dogs often experience a seemingly miraculous recovery from their lymphoma with even just the first dose, so I laid down next to her and waited for a miracle.  After my husband left for work, I was able to get her to come to bed with me and finally fell asleep for a short while, which was miracle enough, at the time.  When I woke up, she was back on the floor, her breathing labored.  She couldn’t walk down the steps by herself so, after my youngest carried her out to the bathroom, I made her comfy in her bed in a patch of sunlight through the door while I tried to see if I could get her into Fredonia for a shot of prednisone, hoping it would work faster. Unfortunately, Dr. Megan was out on an equine call, so I waited and tried to keep her hydrated and comfortable. 

She was bundled up where she lay on the rug and I was doing dishes when I heard a thunk.  I looked over to see her on her back, her legs straight up in the air – she was having a seizure.  Initially, I thought she was dying right in front of me, and I was hysterical, but the seizure passed in less than a minute.  I had yelled for my youngest to call my husband while I began the phone calls, beginning with Fredonia, who told me that the seizure did no permanent damage, as she was breathing, awake, and looked at me when I called her name, but that I needed to get her to an ER.  The only 24 hour ER in Ozaukee County is the WVRC in Grafton; the receptionist told me that they only had one doctor on staff who was just going into surgery, and they couldn’t take another patient for at least three hours.  I tried the Blue Pearl in Glendale, since the Port Washington location was closed on Fridays, but I was informed that they only stay open until 8 p.m. and Maggie would likely need longer care.  That left the VCA Animal Hospital in Greenfield or the Waukesha Walk-In Vet (open every day but Sunday), both nearly an hour away.  We chose Greenfield.  My husband sat Maggie in the back seat of our car with me, and we were on our way.

Thankfully, I somehow found the presence of mind to be calm for Maggie.  She let me hold her head or rest it on my leg while I talked softly to her.  I told her that our oldest kid would be home in just a few days, and we would all snuggle together and rake the leaves, which she adored.  I told her we’d do all the things she loved: we’d go for a walk in Port Washington and visit Emily at One Wag; we’d go for a walk in Grafton and get coffee at Colectivo; we’d go to the pup-pup store (Feed Bag in Mequon) and get her “nails did” and a treat.  I told her about all the people she loved who would come and visit her – especially my three nieces and nephew, because Maggie loved children best of all.  Each time I said a magic word, her little ears would perk up, so I knew she was listening.  Though I still had this insane hope that the ER would get her stabilized with a shot of prednisone, I also was aware this might be our last time together.  I told her the story of Maggie, beginning with that minivan in the Bed, Bath & Beyond parking lot.  I told her how much we loved her and that, if she had to go, it was okay – we knew she was the goodest girl there ever was.  As I watched the time left on Google Maps, I’d say to her, “Just ten more minutes…just five more minutes.” 
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Finally, we made it, but as soon as we walked through the door Maggie had another seizure.  Staff came running and she was secured on a gurney and wheeled away immediately, after giving them a quick gist of the situation.  I checked us in through tears and we were shown to an exam room where a technician appeared and asked for more information.  After filling her in, she told us the doctor would be in shortly.  While we waited, we texted the kids and let them know what was happening.  When the doctor arrived, she delivered the most unbearable news: Maggie was not going to make it a week.  In fact, Maggie was not going to make it another 24 hours; her systems were shutting down and the seizures were most likely because the cancer had already spread to her brain.  The best thing we could do for her was to let her go peacefully through euthanasia, otherwise she’d continue to have seizures until she passed.  We called the kids and put them on speakerphone; they wheeled Maggie in, but she had just had another seizure and was already taking her last breaths.  We said our rushed and tearful goodbyes as she faded away.

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Early morning kisses from mom when Maggie was still small enough to carry.

​Twenty days.  Twenty days between finding a lump and losing our Maggie to lymphoma.  Losing the sun is unfathomable; unthinkable. Nevertheless, we lost our Maggie on Friday, October 18th and we will never be the same.  Maggie was my soul dog, as they say, but she was also my husband’s and my kids’ soul dog; she was exactly what each of us needed and she came to us exactly when we needed her.  I don’t understand why she had to leave us so soon and I may never understand but, as I review the events over and over again in my head, I feel an unmistakable sense of divine timing – that, for reasons I can’t yet see, Maggie was not meant to stay with us for the next stretch of the journey.  I may be wrong, of course, but it gives me a sense of peace.  Writing this took me three weeks and, though it does get a tiny bit easier each day, there will be a pibble-shaped hole in my heart for the rest of my days.  She missed her 6th birthday by nearly a month. She should have had another 6. There is never enough time with those we love.

Why did I write this?  Because writing is how I process things best, but also because I hope that our story helps someone else.  Someone who has a dog who is struggling with allergies; someone whose dog has lymphoma and doesn’t know what to do; someone who lost a dog and needs to know that there’s someone else who went through that unimaginable pain, too.  I wanted to shed some light on the current inadequacies of the veterinary system in our community and in our country, and to share some of the resources and things I’ve learned in the countless hours of research I did over the course of Maggie’s brief but cherished life.  Perhaps it will save someone some steps, some tests, some suffering.  I wanted to let the world know that this seemingly insignificant little life changed the lives of four people and brought smiles to almost everyone she encountered, from the time she was small enough to be carried, to her very last walk in Port Washington.  I want everyone to know that Maggie was here and I loved her.

When looking back on it all now, I think that even if I had known what we were dealing with on day one and started prednisone immediately when we first found the lump, I don’t think we would have altered the outcome.  Lymphoma is the most common cancer in dogs, and it is particularly common in the bully breeds.  While some dogs respond to chemo and may buy a year, it is incredibly expensive and essentially makes your dog’s saliva, urine, and feces toxic – you technically aren’t supposed to let them give you kisses, even.  We knew we couldn’t work with that.  Prednisone is only a temporary fix, but if brought in early enough, it can give you time to start an herbal protocol.  Many people with lymphoma have kept it in remission with alcohol-free tinctures of Red Clover and Cleavers, available through Hawaii Pharm, which may also help in dogs – I ordered them both for Maggie, but never had the chance to administer them.  There is also a new lymphoma formula (LSA Combination) that has great data behind it, but only your vet can access it, if they’re willing, from A Time To Heal Herbs.  

Thinking back to the beginning of Maggie’s life, it’s difficult not to wonder if there was something I did that caused her lymphoma.  Even conventional veterinarians are realizing that we are over-vaccinating and over-medicating our pets, just as we are with people. My youngest child had a severe reaction to his one-year-old vaccinations, and we’d had a friend whose kitten died from vaccinosis, so trying to reduce Maggie’s exposure to pharmaceuticals and toxins was something I was very conscious of right from the start; nonetheless, I’d agreed to the most common puppy vaccines: Distemper, Leptospirosis, Bordetella, and her Rabies vaccine, plus she did get some Heartguard and Nexguard early on.  I already cleaned with baking soda and vinegar and avoided things like air fresheners, conventional cleaners and care products, and scented candles, which can have adverse effects on both pets and people (even seemingly benign essential oil diffusers can be dangerous for cats and dogs), but I also chose to have Maggie microchipped because a stranger in a pet store warned me that people would want to steal a pit bull like her.  Knowing what I know now, there are some of those decisions, most made out of fear, I would not have made again, yet there is no way to prove that any of it caused her lymphoma.  For all I know it was, like her foot, a product of bad breeding.  I’m sure I will never learn the answers to these questions, but maybe others will carry them forward and find the answers we couldn’t. 

When we lose a pet, the loss is often felt more keenly than even the loss of close family members because, being bred to depend entirely on people, our pets become a near constant part of our daily routines.  Unlike children, our dogs never really become more independent and, as far as I can tell, a pit bull is just a perpetual hairy toddler.   Maggie was my third child, as dear to me as my first two that I gave birth to, but she was also pure love; an endless supply of love that was so overflowing there is plenty to last me until I see her again – and I am certain I will.  She taught me so much – not just about dogs, and pit bulls, specifically, and how to care for them, but about myself.  She taught me about patience and the importance of taking time to play, to sniff and explore, and to rest.  Most of all, she taught me how to say goodbye. 
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The night Maggie passed, my oldest – the one who couldn’t get home in time to say goodbye – had a dream: they dreamed they were in our old house in Port Washington, where Maggie was a puppy, and wherever they went, Maggie followed.  They snuggled on the sofa, the warm sun streaming bright through the big picture window.  They were cozy and all was peaceful.  In some other place and time, she waits for us there.

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​Celebrate Maggie’s birthday at One Wag in downtown Port Washington on Thursday, November 14th!  From 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., stop in and get a FREE treat in Maggie’s memory. 

No purchase is necessary, but we sure would love it if you would choose to shop local at Maggie’s favorite place, even if it’s just for a stocking stuffer this holiday season!

Does your dog have allergies?  Try Bixbi's Skin & Coat!  Bad breath or teeth?  Try Plaque Off!  Both worked for Maggie and they are available at One Wag!


Holistic Pet Resources
Holistic Actions (Dr. Jeff Feinman) – excellent resource for pet health
Ask Dr. Steve DVM – Facebook group where you can find health resources and answers
Dr. Peter Dobias, DVM – supplements and excellent resource for pet health
The Heretical Vet (Dr. Dee Blanco, DVM) – excellent resource for pet health
Hemopet (Dr. W Jean Dodds, DVM) – NutriScan allergy testing, titer testing, and more
Dog Nutrition Solutions – great resource for how to feed your dog
4-Legger – natural and organic dog shampoo and conditioner, plus resources
Dunbar Academy – FREE dog training courses, and more
Dogs Naturally Magazine
Pittie Clothing Co. – adorable pajamas that keep your pibble from scratching
 
Local Pet Resources
Thrive Wholistic Veterinary Care – Dr. Sue can help you “peel the onion” on symptoms
Fredonia Veterinary Clinic – the best conventional veterinary in Oz, IMHO
Companion Animal Chiropractic – Dr. Robin is the most amazing dog whisperer!  Much cheaper than a vet visit, consider this first if your pet has any sudden mobility issues.
One Wag – Located in downtown Port Washington, Emily and Lyla are the best and they will help you find the right food, treats, toys, and more for your dog or cat!
Feed Bag Pet Supply – Located in Mequon, find things for all pets, plus grooming and swimming!
Rachel Roo’s Pet Sitting Service – The best puppy-watcher (and cats, too!) in town!

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