It sucks when your dog dies. Molly was a loving, friendly and vivacious German Shepard/Collie mix who liked anyone who was friendly. She’d often go up to strangers, wagging her tail and expecting to be petted. She seemed to love everyone, and everyone loved her back. She had been in my life for the past couple of years; my boyfriend had known her for fourteen. She was a shelter dog his mom has seen on television one morning and knew they had to have her. They wasted no time in getting her and found her to be the only dog not crying at the shelter. She seemed to know someone would come and take her. She jumped up when she heard her name and that was that.
She got really sick really fast in the past week, getting especially bad this past weekend. By Monday, she started rejecting food. She was then rushed to the vet where it was determined there wasn’t much to do. The circulation in her legs was gone; her body seemed to give out making medication and treatment useless. One look on the vet’s face and I knew what the answer would be. To be honest, I knew her body was going, but I didn’t know it was that bad. At least, until this past weekend. It was hard to determine the severity of it when she wasn’t crying at the touch, didn’t cry at being held and still tried to walk around. She was still eager to eat (that is, until the last day) and never said no to a treat. Due to unforeseen circumstances, I couldn’t rush her to the vet right away, but was able to do so when it seemed the most necessary. I watched over her like a hawk, looking for any signs of urgency. And good thing I did: the people who knew her and loved her got to be there to comfort her and be with her at the end.
In the past couple of days since, it’s been hard for me to write. I had seemed to lose the ability to write anything down. I couldn’t form sentences together. Even though I knew this was coming, it’s still hard. Her sister (and lifelong companion) Rosie is missing her shoulder to lean on. It’s sad to see her pining at the window every time she hears the front gate open. She’s waiting for her to come back. She stayed right at her side until the very end, and was especially close to her in the final days. Rosie was a great sister to Molly, who I’m sure appreciated it. Now it’s time to repay that love in kind. Rosie needs comfort, affection and reassurance. She has a lot of people that love her. As I’ve been looking for pictures to add to this post I realize that I don’t have a lot of solo shots of Molly. Most are of the two, usually with Rosie leaning on her sister. At least I have them. I will miss this girl terribly. Rest in peace, girl. My Molly.