I’ve often thought Molly was put here to teach people about love. She just radiated with it, so much you just could not help but be happy when she was near by. That goofy grin with the frantic body wagging (a tail wag simply would not do), while she practically jumped out of her skin to greet you would melt a heart of stone.
Molly was my mom’s dog, the family pet, for a very long time. So long in fact, that none of us are quite sure how old she really was when she finally left us on Monday. 16, 17, 18? The number doesn’t matter, Molly was the Wunder Dog, that never aged; who strangers constantly inquired, “how old is your puppy?” even up until very recently.
She was also quite famous around these parts. Back in her beach romping days, she was the house favorite with all the “cookie ladies” who couldn’t wait for Molly to arrive. Those big-hearted women carried ginormous treat filled zip lock bags, which Molly would lock in on from ridiculously far away. If you weren’t careful to unleash her soon enough she’d take your arm off while bolting for her morning “cookie”.
Of course she was also a big hit too at the retirement community my parents eventually moved in to. Everyone there knew and loved Molly and showered her with attention and more unnecessary treats. It’s certainly a wonder she wasn’t gigantic!
On the surface Molly was all fun and games (and treats) but she had a deep, old soul to her too that could sense hurt and the need for comforting. I remember several years ago spending a couple days at my parents’ house while recuperating after surgery and she rarely left my side. The tennis balls that needed catching, the seagulls just asking to be chased, well they would have to wait because Molly was on duty protecting one of her own.
She did this with my dad too when he was sick and spent many hours in his favorite chair by the window. Molly would either stand at attention while he continually petted her head, or curl up in a ball next to him while they napped together. They communicated with each other in ways my dad could not do anymore with people and I’m very grateful for that. Good girl Molly.
Yes, Molly was an exceptionally big hearted and special dog. They all are, I know but right now the world seems a bit dimmer without her around.
Rest in peace Molly Dog. It makes me smile that you’re with Pops and getting all the treats you could ever dream of. Plenty of nefarious seagulls to be dealt with up there too I’m sure!
Photo by Melissa Butler