I adopted Molly 3 years ago. It was love at first sight. She was a Yorkie mix, she had been abused and she was only 5 years old. I vowed to her that I would never let her suffer again. She was bouncey, smart and, believe it or not, had been well trained. Someone had filed her teeth down, however, and I wondered how anyone could do that to a puppy. She understood words and sometimes I had to spell things when talking on the phone. Molly snored at night which I thought was so cute. We slept together, she followed me from room to room, and we took long walks...I loved her deeply and she loved me unconditionally. She loved to eat and weighed 10 lbs when I got her. I fed her the best dog food, but she yearned for the good stuff. My Vet said to supplement her diet with celery and carrots. She crunched them down and wanted more. I live alone and Molly was my baby girl. We didn't run into a problem until last Christmas when she started coughing and choking. I panicked and rushed her to the Emergency Vet Hospital where she was intubated, given shots and kept overnight in oxygen. It was a long time before she had her next attack, which was April 8, my birthday. Again, they gave her shots, x-rayed her and put her in oxygen. She was so scared that she tried to bite the Vet and they wouldn't even lift her out of the oxygen box. I opened it and she jumped into my arms. I was told she had a condition called Collapsing Trachea. It happens in little dogs. Their trachea, (or windpipe), collapses just as if you would suck the air out of a straw. I went crazy trying to ward off any irritants in the air, I replaced her collar with a halter, I only walked her early in the morning on hot days. The next attack I rushed her to my own Vet where they did all the same things and kept her overnight. She was put on medication and bounced back once we got home. Then the attacks started coming more regularly; every month. I live on a fixed income and this was devastating for me, as each visit cost from $200 to $250. But she was worth it and I went without things in order to keep her healthy. Finally, she had an attack on Aug 29, 2006. This time she did not bounce back. She slept most of the time when we got home. I held her like a baby all night the second day. My Vet called and said she would never get better; she was not a candidate for surgery-which costs $3000 and is only done in TN; so he said it was time. The next day I took her "Bye Bye in the Car", which she loves and we had ICE CREAM. On the 31st I took her to Steak-n-Shake and she had a cheeseburger and french fries. That night she was her old self. We took a long walk and she jumped into bed that night. I had to make that horrible decision and thought I just could NOT do it. But a lady Vet volunteered to come to my home. My sister and her husband came over and we played with Molly for a long time. Molly loved it. She was the center of attention. No more scarey Vet hospitals, no more pain. We all said our Goodbyes and I held her in my arms. The Vet's assistant held her gently and I whispered in her ear that I loved her forever. And, peacefully and quietly, she was gone. We all cried and I hugged her and wrapped her in her favorite blanket. I even taped a note on her body saying, "This is Molly May-She was deeply loved. Please handle with kindness". The Vet took her to be cremated and it was over. It was probably the worse day of my life, but I kept my promise to her. I don't feel any guilt. But what I wasn't expecting was the PAIN. The kind of pain where you cry and scram. She is gone. She isn't here when I get home. If I reach for her at night there is no one there.. I'm actually sick. Can't eat, can't sleep and can't stop crying. Maybe we were so close that I didn't need anyone else. I live in a retirement community and my neighbors all loved Molly. I often took her to see my Mother in a nusing home, but if I went anywhere without her I had to hurry home. I guess I felt like I didn't need anyone else because I was the luckiest human on earth. Little Molly was the love of my life. I have lost close family members and it didn't hurt like this. Please tell me it will get better?! I can't afford another dog so that is not an option, not that it would make any diffence. There was no one like Molly May. When I get her ashes I want them buried with me. I wish I could just be glad she is at peace. But all I can do is sob and ache. Please, can anyone help me?
