Goodbye Molly

It all started about 15 or 16 years ago. We are really not sure but it doesn't matter. My father came home one day with a "britney spaniel" about 7 or 8 months old...named Molly. My father was about 72 years at the time and my sisters and I could not figure out why he wanted this dog at his age. She was very active but behaved well for my dad. My mother really was never a dog lover but she tolerated all the dogs we had when we were growing up. Molly was no different. She was definitely a "girl" dog but my mother always referred to her as " him". My sisters and I would always correct her and she would just laugh and continued to refer to her as "him".

Molly could run like the wind and loved to catch the moles that were invading my parent's backyard. Of course Molly did more damage than the moles did because she would dig and dig and dig until she caught that nasty little creature. We would then have to go and fill in all the holes she had dug.

Then came April 12, 1998, the day my father passed away. It was Easter Sunday and actually a beautiful day. My father died around 5:30am...just before sunrise. I thought what a wonderful day to go to heaven.

Now that my father had gone, my mother was home alone for the first time in her life except for Molly was there. She became a wonderful companion to my mother who didn't drive and was retired. They developed their own daily routine. She loved Ritz crackers and every night my mother would give her eight crackers. Why eight crackers we will never know. Then each night Molly would back up to my mother who sat in her infamous rocking chair and would want my mother to rub her back. My mother who never really was a dog lover became attached to Molly and Molly to my mother.

About 3 years later my mother made the decision to go into an assisted living due to her diagnosis of alzheimers. She could have taken Molly but it would have been too much for her to handle and not fair to Molly to rob her of a place to run. So I took her. She adjusted well and developed her own routine at her new house. She got along with our dogs for the most part but she let them all know she was boss and she was the boss.

The past two years we could see her decline but tried not to think of the day she would be gone.
Then this past Christmas my youngest son, Ben got a black lab puppy named Winston. He was a big puppy and about the size of Molly. He wanted to play and she played with him. Sometimes I would think Winston was getting to rough with her but she would paw at him and would ask for more. I truly believe Winston extended her life and gave her the last "hurrah".
When we got Jack (our newest addition) about two months ago it was like she said, "ok...Winston you now have a playmate.....my work is done."

We think Molly had a stroke on Friday and gave her a chance to recover over the weekend but this morning she was actually worse. My sister Anne and my son Ben took her to the vet to be put down. I could not watch her suffer nor could I take her myself. I am so grateful to them for taking her for me. I just could not do it.

My good friend who lives across the street where my parents lived all those years offered to let us bury Molly in her backyard because we did not have a place to bury her. Her backyard was fitting because it took Molly back to where she started.....on Carolina Avenue.

Molly, you were the best dog any family could ever want and you touched many. I love you and I will miss you.

Goodbye Molly.......