The runt of a litter of 12 labs, Maeva was born so small she needed to be bottle fed. I’m trying to remember the chain of events that led to how we got this amazing creature..things were so horrible back when–and she was the only spot light.
The first great darkness was when my mom passed late July. A week later I had to put my first dog–a black lab– down. Life couldn’t have been worse.
Maeva was born on June 30. And though I was grieving two terrible losses somehow I knew she would help me through them. I wasn’t ready to let my mom go, and I wasn’t ready to “trade Bella in” for a new dog, but my skepticism was cinched when Maeva pup, so fragile, walked over to my lap and fell asleep on me during a visit. “I think she picked you,” Julie had said.
I look at Maeva now. Mom would’ve loved her. But those gray hairs worry me– she isn’t that old. None of her brothers and sisters I’ve seen seem to have this weathered look yet. And then I think, Maybe it’s Mom’s grays shining through.. Maybe she’s letting me know she’s here and she loves this dog like she loved Bella so…
Maeva Jett, a survivor–my savior.