It happened. I’ve been waiting patiently for nearly five years. But it finally happened. Maya wagged her tail at me.

Yes, of course, she has wagged her tail before.

She wags her tail when it’s breakfast time.

She wags her tail when it’s dinner time.

She wags her tail at Maudie.

She wags her tail to when she goes out to potty.

For crying out loud, she wags her tail after she poops, so happy is she!

But she never wags her tail at me.

Until last night.

I came into the den (where she bides her time) to perform our nighttime ritual—me crawling onto her gigantic bed, petting her ears, stroking her head, telling her she’s perfect just as she is, and shielding her when Maudie comes barging onto the bed to get some of the love.

Lo and behold, last night, as I bent down to join her on the bed, the little white tip of her tail thumped on the bed.

OH. MY. DRAGONS.

It’s been nearly five years since I brought her home—skinny, shivering, never ever making eye contact, flinching and cringing at my touch. Maya hated everything. Except Thomas. She loved Thom from Day One, would have been happy never to see me again.

Slowly, in tiny baby steps, she recovered enough for me to care for her daily without her being terrified. But her level of trust was minimal.

Until Maudie. In one year, Maudie has changed everything for Maya, has shown her how to be a dog, how to be happy while walking, how to receive and even look forward to love.

So last night, she looked up at me with her sweet face and said, “Yes, Mama, I see you coming to give me love. I’m looking forward to it.” 

Christmas. Miracle.

Thank you, dog gods.