This past Tuesday, my wife and I had to release Molly from her painful body. I cannot begin to put my feelings down on paper of the pain, emptyness and loniness I feel. Molly was with us for almost 12 years and she certainly had a great run. We adopted her from the Arizona Animal Welfare League on 7/4/97 and I still remember asking the keeper to bring her out because she was so shy. When she came out, she ran right to me and layed her head in my lap. We both knew that was the hard luck case we wanted. Faimly and friends said I would never get her out of her shell; but they were all wrong because I spent so much time with her. We hiked, traveled all over the county, and ran. She never once said she was too tired and always was excited to get into the car and visit a new park. As luck would have it, we had to move back to Ohio to care for my father in law who was stricken with liver cancer. Prior to his illness, he would walk her when we were not home and my wife's aunt just loved her to no end. After nine years in Ohio, we traveled back to Arizona and made one heck of a trip across county. As a matter of fact, I planned the trip to hit all the parks we could. Molly loved every minute of it.
Then things changed, first she was diagnosed with underactive thyroid which required medication. We faithfully gave her the meds twice a day. Then she had mites and one vet wanted to put her on a powerful med which would have taxed her system, so we found a hollistic vet who used natural remedies to cure the mites. Then about every six weeks, we took her in for an adjustment because her hips were failing and so the back was getting out of line. Each time the vet did accupuncture which made her a puppy again. However, we all suspected something was brewing in her and as the last few months showed, she started losing weight, had loose stools and didn't have the energy to walk as long. On Sun, she jumped on the bed while I was reading and wanted loved. While that was not odd, it was different in how she accepted it. Then on Mon when I was at work, she wanted loved from my wife. At dinner, I asked my wife if she knew her time was coming. We kind of shrugged it off, but as Monday night progressed, Molly could not get fixed and her walk was more of a shuffle. Even early in the moring, we got up to see her staring at the couch; it was as if there was nothing but a shell standing there.
So with heavy hearts, we were the first appointment on Tues and I rode in the back seat with her. Our vet came out and by the look on her face, we knew. When we got into the room, the vet did her exam and said she could drug her up but we would be back. There was no obvious outward signs of disease but Molly was not Molly. For the first time, she had fear in her eyes, ears were back and as she looked at me, I could tell she was in pain. So we made the painful decision to put ourself second and Molly first by freeing her from her ailing body. Even the vet cried with us. We were all there and I held her head as she drifted off. At that moment I felt so sad, empty and had nothing to live for. On Wed evening, I went to Papago Buttes to watch the sunset which was a favor place of ours. I had her collar wrapped around my wrist and talked to her and even now as I write this, I just want to reach down and scratch her head.
I miss that dog so much that at times there are waves of tears that I just cannot stop, but I also know that I will get through this and once again will adopt a hard luck case to begin developing new memmories. I am planning to attend the pet grieving meeting tomorrow because I need to heal, just like everyone else who has lost a dear friend. Molly, now you are there with all the other pets we have cared for and my father in law. Someday we'll meet again but until then, thank you for making ours lives so much richer, fulfilling and happy. I love you so much and while you are not physcially here, your memmories cannot be taken away from me.
Molly, adopted 7/4/97 made trip across rainbow bridge on 9/29/09
Tom and Dena
