Introduction

"A warm memoir about a woman's connection to—and transformation because of—her dog."—Foreword Reviews

Anne grew up in an abusive home, leading to severe depression and a determination to do better as a mother. One of her sons wants a dog from the time he is a baby; Anne very much does not. For years she appeases him with creatures who live in cages and tanks, but on his tenth birthday she can no longer say no—and she proceeds to fall in love with their new four-legged family member, Mattie. Then Mattie dies a sudden and tragic death, and Anne feels herself begin to sink back into depression.

Trying to cope, she immediately adopts Milo—a dog who, unbeknownst to her, has already been returned to the rescue by several families due to his aggressive behavior. But even after she realizes Milo is dangerous, she's committed to trying to give him a chance at a good life.

Anne's journey takes the reader from dog school into the deep woods as she perseveres with Milo's lifelong rehabilitation and her unwavering efforts to be a good mother to her sons. Working with Milo strengthens Anne and expands her ability to love. Ten years later, when Milo dies, Anne faces another choice: close the door to that part of her heart, or risk loving another dog after two tragic losses?

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Excerpt

Chapter 3 of Mattie, Milo, and Me

I don’t like to shop. When we relocated from Boston to Phil- adelphia, I looked at three houses in one day and bought one

of them that evening. While raising my boys, Jonathan, Joseph, and Josh, I would go to Gap twice a year and buy seven sets of sweatpants and sweatshirts or shorts and T-shirts—one for each day of the week—for each of them. I do pretty much the same thing for my own clothes. I’m not a comparison shopper. When I need an appliance, I walk into the store, buy the one the salesperson recommends, and hope for the best.

Merely hoping for the best was not going to cut it with a dog. For the first time in my life, I needed to be an informed consumer. I went to Borders and bought Every Dog, a 536-page book describing over 450 breeds. We took turns paging through the book and looking at the different breeds. Suddenly, I was interested in the dogs my kids’ friends owned. Joseph wanted a big dog. Though I didn’t even want a dog, I thought small would surely be better than big. I had often heard people with older children say, “Small children, small problems. Big children, big problems.” I wasn’t convinced this ap- plied to children, but I was unwavering that it applied to dogs.

One Monday, just a few weeks into our search, Jonathan came home from a soccer teammate’s house gushing about his wheaten terrier. I looked up this breed in my book. It was a medium, hypoallergenic breed. A breed, it seemed from the description,

that did everything but empty the dishwasher. This was our dog.

I called the mother of Jonathan’s teammate and got the name of the breeder.

“We’re having a litter in May,” the breeder said when I called. “I’ll put you on the list.”

The boys were happy. I was ecstatic. I had been a good mother and found the right dog for our family, and it had cost me nothing. After all, it was only January. May was so far away that it felt like it would never arrive. A lifetime away. As I passed through my dog- free house, I was even able to convince myself that the possibility of a cushion-chewing, rug-peeing, yapping dog would never become a reality. Life was good.

Three days later, the breeder called me back.

“We have a ten-month-old dog, Mattie, we had planned to use as a show dog,” she said. “But her neck is too short, and we’re putting her up for adoption. If you’re interested, you and your family could come over on Sunday. We can meet all of you, and you can meet Mattie. If everything works out, you could take her home right away.”

My heart fell with a thud. What could I say? It never occurred to me to buy myself some time by saying we would prefer to wait for a puppy in May. It never occurred to me that I could keep this conversation a secret from the kids. I knew my kids would want to get Mattie now rather than wait. So I said the only thing I could think to say: “That would be great.”

Friday after school, we went to Petco. We went through the aisles buying bowls and beds and toys and food. Listening to the boys excitedly debate which bed, which toy, which bowl would be best for Mattie, I wondered if adoptive parents go shopping like this when they find out they have been matched with a child. I wish I could say that my boys’ happiness lifted my spirits and made me

even a little bit happy about Mattie, but it didn’t. The truth was irrevocable. I. Did. Not. Want. A. Dog. Still, as much as I did not want a dog, I wanted many more times than that to be a good mother.

That Sunday morning, as Andy and the boys got ready for our fifty-minute drive to the breeder’s, I took one sad, slow walk through my house. It would never look the same.

If Andy and the boys talked during our ride, I didn’t hear them. I was mired in an amorphous sense of dread. It wasn’t just the dog that was pulling me down. My baseline sense of hopeless- ness and despair was digging in even deeper within me. I could feel my depression pulling me down.

The breeder and her husband welcomed us into their split-level house and ushered us into their family room. They began asking the boys about their schools and hobbies, pets and sports. It seemed pretty clear that they were assessing them to see if they would be good with Mattie. I wasn’t surprised when after not too long my boys had put them at ease.

“Why don’t you go into the kitchen,” the woman said, point- ing across the hall. “I’ll go downstairs and send Mattie up to meet you.”

I followed the boys into the kitchen. I stood in the middle of the bright, airy room, waiting. I wasn’t anticipating anything. I wasn’t dreading anything. My mind had gone numb. Suddenly, a white blur burst through the door and landed at my feet. Without thinking, I dropped to the ground and wrapped my arms around Mattie. I felt my heart open.

I sat back while Mattie scurried excitedly around the circle, from Andy to Josh to Jonathan and Joseph. Her tail was high and wagging. Then she came back to me and plopped herself in my lap. Oh my God, I was in love. What was not to love about this happy,

endearing, medium-sized ball of white fluff ? Her unbridled happi- ness and unmitigated affection were contagious. Very, very contagious. My own happiness about Mattie was magnified that much more when I looked up and saw my gleeful boys.

The breeder put a leash on Mattie. Then Andy and the breeder’s husband carried a metal crate from the house and put it in the trunk of our station wagon. The breeder lifted Mattie into the crate. Before she shut it, she pulled out a partially chewed stuffed unicorn from her pocket.

“This is Mattie’s special toy,” she said to the boys, and she put it next to Mattie.

They all nodded in knowing agreement. Each of them had had a special stuffed animal too. They still did, even if the older two kept them farther away, on their bureaus. But not out of sight.

We said our goodbyes and began the ride home. We had not gone a full block when I heard Mattie whimpering.

“Mommy,” I heard six-year-old Josh say, “Mattie’s crying be- cause she misses her mommy.”

I turned to look back at them. All three of my boys had tears dripping down their cheeks.

When we got home, the phone was ringing as I unlocked the door. It was my mother.

“What’s new?” she asked.

“We just got back from the breeder. We have the dog,” I told her. “So?” my mother asked. She knew I had agreed to a dog only

because I was trying to be a good mother.

“She’s great. When the breeder opened the kitchen door, Mattie galloped into the middle of the room and I melted to the floor to hug her as if she were my long-lost dog.” I was swooning. “She seemed so sweet and affectionate. I just fell in love.”

“And the boys? I don’t imagine they’re interested in sweet.”

“Oh, they’re as excited as I am,” I said, so relieved and surprised that the dog thing was turning out well that I’d forgotten to stay vigilant for my mother’s ridicule. I’d forgotten to listen and speak like a lawyer. My mother is a master at finding the bad in any good. “The breeder put Mattie in her crate in the back of our station wagon, and when we pulled out of the driveway, she began whim- pering. At the end of the street Josh said, ‘I think she misses her mommy,’ and when I turned to look at him, all three boys were crying.”

My mother said nothing. She reminded us often that she was from Maine, where people know how to talk slowly and wait out their opponents. When my mother wasn’t giving me the silent treatment, she would call on Sundays. As abusive as she was to me, I could not cut her out of my life. Or my father. I couldn’t help it. They were at the core of my being. I loved them. I couldn’t stop hoping that at some point they would finally be kind or nice to me.

I’m not from Maine. I needed to fill in the silence. “I think this is going to work.”

“And then Josh will go to college and the dog will die,” my mother said.

I did the arithmetic. She was right. There was a good chance Mattie might die when Josh left for college. My mother never missed an opportunity to squash any happiness I might find. From Mattie’s first night with us and every night thereafter, when I got into bed with her nuzzled against my feet, I heard my mother’s words. And I was reminded anew that Mattie’s days with us were finite, numbered.

For years my mother gleefully told the story over and over that it had been her present to Josh for his bar mitzvah that the UPS man was delivering when he killed Mattie. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

From the author:

1. Considering Anne’s decision to keep Milo – what would you have done? Is there a point where you would have given up or taken a different path?

2. What do you think about Anne’s need to replace Mattie immediately to offset falling into a depression? Do you think she acted too hastily? Do you think it was okay that she got another dog so quickly even though her children said they were not ready for a new dog?

3. If a child wants a dog, and their parent does not want a dog, what do you think is the right thing for the parent to do? What do you think about Anne’s method of substituting a series of reptiles and amphibians?

4. When Anne met “mellow Milo,” and he was so calm, do you agree with Anne that Bill Smith at Main Line Animal Rescue had likely sedated Milo with medication? If so, was this a justifiable method to use to place a difficult dog like Milo with a family?

5. What do you think about how the community of dog people rallied to support Anne and Milo? One example is in the beginning, when Anne was struggling with Milo, and Jane and Mary stepped in to help. A second example is when Anne needed surgery part way through dog school and they stepped in, again. Have you experienced something similar in your own life?

6. When Anne and her family met with Gail for their dog school interview with Milo, do you believe Gail was right that Milo was well-behaved during the interview because he knew what was happening and that he was “internally stressing”?

7. Do you think Gail’s advice to return Milo to the rescue was good advice? Do you think Gail should have been more open to hearing Anne’s concerns about Milo and the behaviors she wanted help with? Do you think Gail should have been more empathetic about the situation and less hasty to decree that Milo should be returned to the rescue?

8. Do you think that Tiny’s death led to Anne’s not wanting a dog? Or do you think that many people do not want dogs for many reasons, such as shedding, the need to walk them and that the moms are often left with the chores that children promise to do before the dog arrives?

9. The morning after Milo died, when Anne met Bill Smith at Main Line Animal Rescue, were you surprised that she felt no anger toward Bill even though she believed he had sedated Milo a decade earlier?

10. Milo’s death was not as sudden as when Mattie was killed by the UPS truck. What did you think Anne would do about adopting another dog after he died?

11. What do you think about how Anne’s mother treated Anne and Anne’s children? What makes a mother cold and aggressive?


12. Consider the many scenes at dog school. What do you think about how Mary conducted the training of the dogs and their moms. If you have a dog, would you take your dog to this dog school for lessons and classes?

13. After Mattie was killed do you think Anne should have called UPS and asked for a new driver? If you were Anne, would you harbor a grudge against the UPS man who killed Mattie? Or would you forgive him?

14. Reflecting on the multiple dogs in this memoir – beginning with Mattie, then Milo, and then Yat (renamed Ryan ) and Sam – which dog or dogs would you adopt? How would you take care of them with their varying needs and personalities?

15. Comment on the phrase, “Love is not a pie.” Is this metaphor always true, sometimes true or never true? What are some examples that support your position on this?

16. Consider the moral dilemma between getting a dog from a reputable breeder versus getting a dog from a reputable rescue. How does a responsible prospective dog adopter consider the moral aspects of this decision?

17. Were you surprised by Anne’s decision to take not just one but two rescue dogs after Milo’s death? Please explain why or why not.

18. The theme of empathy is an important part of this memoir. Can you identify key points where empathy changes the course of the story? Or where the absence of empathy also has an impact?

19. What are the main take-away lessons from this memoir that will stay with you?

20. Do you think it was irresponsible of Anne to take Milo to Bed Bath & Beyond to try to desensitize him to people, given her lack of experience training dogs and that she had no way of knowing whether or not he would attack someone or if she would be able to control him?

21. Do you agree with Anne that because she did not make Milo do the usual commands before she gave him his bone before her workout, she was responsible for him biting her? Would you be able to love a dog who attacked you?

22. Do you think Anne was irresponsible for keeping Milo as a family pet, even though with all his training and behavior management, he occasionally bit her and her husband? He could have bitten anyone who came into the house.

23. When Milo chases the kite in the sound in North Carolina what did you think was going to happen when he spotted the family having a picnic on the beach?

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