Friday, August 05, 2005


It happened on Tuesday, but I have hesitated to write about it. Her hips gave out and she couldn't move. Mom said she was shaking in pain, and the vet said there was nothing they could do. It was excruciating for my parents, but there was no way they could let her live paralyzed and in pain.

There are so many people who don't take the death of pets seriously. She had been in my life longer than my sister. Fourteen years. We knew it would happen soon. For some reason (something I must ask God about when I get to heaven) our best friends age seven years faster than we do.

When we got her, I was twelve. My parents took me into a room wriggling with pembroke welsh corgi puppies. Mom pointed out the one she had decided on. She was so small, I could cup her in my two hands. A tiny ball of fuzz (the same color as my hair). I sat down and picked her up. She stuck out her little tongue and gave me a doggie grin. Their tails are docked at birth because of back problems. She couldn't wag her tail, so her entire lower half was wagging. She was so soft, I cuddled her next to my face, and she gave me kisses. Then she peed on my knees.

Two years later, our nine year old cat died. The cat became patient with Molly's constant licking of the top of his head. Towards the end of our cat's life, he looked like Billy Idol. Molly wandered around the house for days, confused, looking for her favorite playmate.

Four years later, we brought my sister home, and Molly seemed to think that she was hers. She licked her face "clean" every time we put the baby on the floor. She paced around her when she was playing on the floor, and sniffed anyone, even me and my parents when we tried to get close to her.

Two and a half years ago, my parents had a lot of guests for Christmas, so my husband and I slept on the pull out couch in the den. Molly came in one morning when I was up watching cartoons with my sister. Husband was still asleep. She hopped up on the couch and squirmed through the sheets and blankets until she was snuggled up next to his head on the pillow. She put her nose right to his, as if she wanted to see how long before he realized a dog was breathing in his face. My sister and I raced for the camera. It's one of my parents' favorite pictures.

When my father was away in Iraq, she was so depressed. She looked up at his recliner every day, then back at us. We tried to explain it to her, but she didn't understand. She was afraid he'd gone the same way as the cat. She was hugely relieved when he came back for ten days leave. She was fine after he left again. She knew he'd come back. He said one day over the phone "If anything happens to her while I'm gone, please don't tell me. I can't handle it."

Her bark was so loud and deep, guests were always shocked every time they entered the house and saw this teeny little dog. She barked every time the phone rang for fourteen years. Corgis are bred to be cattle herders, and she always walked around the perimeter of a room when people were in it. Making sure everyone was accounted for.

She loved us so much. We loved her. I hope she knew how much.


Blogger Kevin Church said...

Wow. Molly's running around somewhere right now, though, having the best time of her life and waiting to have the rest of the gang join her.. I know it's trite, but I really believe it's true.

12:50 AM  

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