A Life of Love and Joy: A Tribute to the Best Girl

by Chris Peterson

I want to start this column off by making it clear that the following has very little to do with theatre. But I’d like to think that this blog is a space where the arts intersect with everyday life. While its core lies in celebrating the magic of the stage, we often delve into topics that resonate beyond the curtain, including love and loss.

So you’ll have to bear with me as I pay tribute to the “goodest” girl, Maeby.

We met her on a warm day in the summer of 2010. My wife and I had just gotten married the previous winter and the discussion of starting a family with a “little furry baby” had been a constant topic. So, in July we made the decision to try to bring a puppy into our lives.

After being denied adoption a couple of times, apparently, two people working full-time wasn’t an ideal enough living situation to approve an adoption; we went to the local pet store to see if there were any puppies available.

It was late in the day and there weren’t many dogs to look at. But then we saw this little ball of white fluff in the window. We asked if we could visit with her, and the folks at the store brought her to one of the playpens. Rather than put on a show or jump around to show how much energy she would later surprises us with, she just moseyed up to my wife’s lap, curled in a ball, and went to sleep.

It was almost as if she was saying, “Look, I’ve had a long day, you seem like a good pillow.”

In that moment we knew she was the perfect dog for us as we often would say the same to each other. There was a sense of calm and connection that was immediate and undeniable. She had chosen us just as much as we had chosen her, and from that moment on, our lives were forever changed.

We brought her home that day.

We named her Maeby, after the Arrested Development character, which was one of our favorite shows. And for the next fourteen years, she was a constant companion, a source of comfort, and a quiet, loving presence who got us through some of the most stressful times in our lives.

On Christmas evening, she left us. Ever so peacefully, passing away in her sleep.

There’s something profoundly unique about the bond with a dog—a connection built on trust, loyalty, and unconditional love. It starts with small moments: a wagging tail that greets you after a long day, the way they instinctively know when you need comfort, or the joy they find in the simplest pleasures like a walk or a game of fetch.

When Maeby came into my life, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. But she had this uncanny ability to sense when I needed her most. Whether it was a tough day at work or a particularly challenging moment in the theatre world, she was always there—her soulful eyes looking up at me as if to say, “I’ve got you.”

During my time in theatre, life could get chaotic. Long rehearsals, late nights, and the pressure of ensuring everything went off without a hitch could be overwhelming. But coming home to Maeby was like hitting the reset button. She didn’t care if a scene didn’t go as planned or if opening night jitters had me on edge. To her, I was simply her person, and she greeted me every single day with boundless enthusiasm and unconditional love. She had this joyful little dance she’d do when I walked through the door, her tail wagging so hard it seemed like her whole body was in motion. That dance could chase away even the heaviest of clouds.

Perhaps inspired by all the theatre I was involved in, she had a flair for the dramatic. She loved wearing costumes. If she wanted attention, she’d let out the most exaggerated sigh and flop onto the floor as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders.

Maeby was also fiercely loyal. She had this protective streak, always keeping a watchful eye over me and our home. But she was also incredibly gentle, especially with children and other animals. She had a way of making everyone feel at ease, her calm demeanor and warm presence acting as a balm for anyone lucky enough to meet her.

Over the past fourteen years, she was there for some of the most significant moments in our lives, always offering her love and support. When our son was born, Maeby took on the role of protector and gentle guardian, staying close by and watching over him with an almost maternal instinct. After she passed the other night, my son started collecting her hair in hopes that he could send it somewhere for her to be cloned.

She moved with us through multiple apartments and houses, adapting to each new space with grace as long as we were together.

And when my wife was diagnosed with cancer, Maeby’s presence became even more essential. She would curl up beside her, offering silent comfort and a steadfast reminder that we were never alone in our struggles. Maeby’s love was a constant through every chapter, her loyalty unshakable and her spirit unyielding.

She also didn’t seem to mind when we finally adopted another dog, Abby. She seemed to take the role of leader or resident diva, often leading Abby to get in trouble or mischief.

As I wrote for this blog, she would settle beside me, her quiet presence a soothing comfort as many of the things I would write about weren’t always positive. Her soft breaths and the occasional nudge of her nose reminded me to take breaks and savor the moment.

Maeby taught me so much about patience, responsibility, and unconditional love—lessons I didn’t realize at the time were preparing me to be a father. Her gentle companionship showed me the importance of creating a safe, loving environment. Through her, I discovered the joy of providing for someone who depends on you, and that love can be expressed in ways both big and small.

There are so many things I’ll miss about Maeby. I’ll miss the sound of her paws padding across the floor - we called those her “tippy taps. I’ll miss the quiet evenings spent together, when she’d curl up next to me on the couch, her warmth providing comfort without words. I’ll miss the way she loved our son, the bond they shared that grew deeper each year, as well as the way she was always there to protect, love, and comfort us.

It’s a fact we all agree on that all dogs go to heaven. I’d like to think hers is our former home in Moodus, CT. There, she’s running freely across the wide lawn, her tail wagging as the wind dances through her fur. She’s not alone; our son is there with her, laughing and calling her name as they race together through the grass. She pauses, as if listening to the sound of birds or the rustling of leaves, and then continues on her way, wandering the familiar woods they loved so much. The trees seem to stretch endlessly in all directions, offering quiet paths where Maeby can explore without a care.

In this heaven, there’s no pain, no tiredness—only the joy of doing what she loved best: being with the people who loved her most. I like to imagine that she feels safe, running and playing in the place that was always home, a space filled with peace, nature, and warmth. And as she looks up at the sky, I hope she knows that we’ll always carry her memory with us, every step of the way.

Yesterday, we buried her. As we carefully placed her in the box, we couldn’t help but notice how she curled up into a ball, just like the first day we met her. It was as though, in that final moment, she wanted to remind us of the warmth and comfort she’d always provided. The box was small, but it felt like the perfect fit—just like when she would snuggle into the smallest spots in our home, always finding a way to be close to us.

Rest now, sweet girl. Our Maeby, Maabs, Maeby-Bell, Mayor of Fluffytown. You’ve earned your peace. Take a bow, and know that you’ll never be forgotten. We love you, always.