If you ever visited Molly’s house you were greeted as if you were the most important, most welcome person on the planet. There was always loud whining, jumping to get attention and if possible an offer to play in the form of a towel or toy in her mouth. To her you were the most exciting person on earth. This she reserved for guests. When we came home from work Molly was reserved and polite waiting until you were ready and acknowledged her with some cuddles and inquiries about her day. Only then did she head to her beloved outdoors.
Molly was a tomboy if a girl dog could be one. She reveled in chasing balls, rough housing with my husband, her Daddy, and there wasn’t a water hole she didn’t love to jump in and swim. On a rainy day she could be found outside in her dog house napping, waiting for the sun.
She was my husband’s companion in all activities. They walked miles and miles together and Molly became the best walking/hiking companion anyone could ask for. She ignores other dogs and people on the trail and road and never ventures very far away from her Daddy. Joe loves to tell how when she was a puppy and she would get a little too far ahead and he’d call her back, she’d look at him with a gleam in her eyes and a smile on her face and run full bore at him and leap into his arms. As she grew she continued to do so and he learned to turn sideways for the impact of the charging Molly. It was all fun to both of them.
Molly adored Joe and wanted to be with him doing whatever he was doing no matter what. He went outside. She went outside and if she could, followed him every step of the way and maybe steal a tool and start some fun. He came in, Molly was desperate to as well. Take a nap? Sounded great to Molly. If Joe was working outside and I wasn’t sure where he was I just had to look for Molly and see which way her nose was pointed and look there.
When Joe and I first started dating Molly’s calmness made the introduction to my less socially savvy dogs easy. After two walks together Molly and Joe just followed us in the house and my dogs acted like she’d always been there. Molly’s calmness on leash helped both of my dogs become better walkers too. One of my fondest images of Molly is when we were walking the trail near our house this year and I turned around to see Molly swimming alongside the trail in the flooded pasture. Hiking Molly style!
Molly was one of those dogs that might not eat every meal or all of her food at once. Before she had Buster as a pesky brother she had food available to nibble on whenever she wanted. So when she started not feeling well and eating less and less we probably didn’t notice it for some time. I remember one weekend in August realizing she wasn’t eating much at all and alarmed I told Joe. He sprung into action confident a change in food was all that was needed. He tried various combinations of dry and wet food. She might eat it a day or two then stop. We took her to the doctors and after blood work were told it looked like Lymphoma and a biopsy could confirm it. By then she was only eating home cooked meals.
We had the biopsy done and waited and I did what I do-researched. I learned of a new promising drug that was released in April. I researched a local canine oncologist. I was worried about my husband losing his beloved dog so long before he expected to. Meanwhile Molly is eating chicken, hamburger, turkey, rice, pasta, eggs. Graham crackers, Nutter Butters (“are those really for Molly”), half moon cookies, lunch meat, whatever we could think of. We were excited when we discovered she’d eat spent grain rolls. One by one she’d turn her nose up and not go back to eating each item. We watched her strength leave her each day and listen to her pant most of the nights thru even with pain medication.
The confirmation that it was Lymphoma came last Friday. The doctor told Joe that based on the fact that she was not eating and the test results, she expected Molly had two to three weeks left to live at best. Joe calls me with tears in his voice and tells me the news. He says he doesn’t want to put her thru chemo. I say then don’t and I’m secretly relieved. Molly isn’t mine but she feels like mine and I would not have chosen that fight for her either.
As if she’d heard the news Molly declined fast. She ate nothing but a tiny scrap of Turkey yesterday. Today nothing except chewed on a marshmallow and spit it out. Joe has taken half days the past two days to spend some time with Molly. She’ll still bring the ball to be thrown, but not far and she needs to rest in between throws. Today we are both off work with her and watching the clock tick by to the time when we take Molly to the vets for one last time.
In the years to come I am sure that when I remember Molly I will remember her as joy embodied.
Words of Wanderers 