My Dog, Molly

Oh Molly, you were such a good dog. That first time we saw you in that little cage, a black, furry mass tightly curled up; we knew we wanted to take you home. You looked up at us with those big, dark eyes and ears flat against your head and we knew you were the one. “How old is this one?” we asked, “one, maybe two or three?” a volunteer told us. “Perfect, we’ll take her”.

You were terrified, I had to pick you up and put you in the car because you refused to jump in. You were at the shelter because you had been abandoned and I’m sure you were scared it would happen again.

We had chosen you for a reason, our beloved dog, Spring, was depressed and we thought she needed a friend. You weren’t interested in her at first but over time you would become best friends.

Do you remember that first night we took you home? You ran in each room of the house, checking every corner and noting every exit. But oh Molly, I wish I could have told you how happy we were to have you there.

Those first couple weeks weren’t easy, if we left the house you would go through the trash and eat the toilet paper; but I understand, you were scared to be alone again.

The more time passed, the more we got to know you. We learned you loved water, having your own bed, bike rides and you best friend, Spring. We took you camping a lot, you loved going in rivers and exploring new places. Do you remember that time you pulled my mom in a river because you wanted to jump in the water? She was so mad, but I swear you were smiling.

You were so brave. Any time another dog came towards Spring, you were always there to protect her. Any time you heard a noise in the house, you always tried to protect me. The hairs would stand down your spine and your teeth would snarl, nothing like that sweet, little retriever in the tiny cage. I’m not sure where you got your courage, but I wish I had it.

The only thing that scared you was our cat. It’s not that you hated her, but you certainly didn’t like her. On cold nights she would curl up next to you for warmth and your eyes would always be wide, neck muscles tense. I know it wasn’t funny for you, but seeing this tiny, sleeping cat make you so nervous was humorous.

I remember when you first started limping. The long runs stopped being so easy and you played less and less. That first ACL tear was hard, but we laid next to your bed every night and made sure you knew you weren’t alone. It took time, but you did go back to chasing ducks and running through puddles.

We had a lot of good years together, Molly girl, that’s what made it so hard that first time you didn’t come when I called you. It’s not that you weren’t listening, it’s that you couldn’t hear me. I had to walk up to you to get your attention and you’d look at me startled when you finally saw me. That only lasted a couple weeks, soon you stopped seeing me too.

It wasn’t long after when the food bowls stayed full, you stopped using that big bed of yours and you started losing weight. “Brain tumor” the vet told us “she’s not going to get better”.

I had to pick you up and put you in the car because you couldn’t jump in. You were scared and we were scared too. That car ride back home was so lonely without you.

Oh Molly, I miss you so much.