My beautiful 3 year old puppy, Molly, has an aggressive form of cancer. The vet kind of expected it, and as much as I tried to prepare myself for the worst news…I still wasn’t ready. Thankfully, right now, I’m not face with any tough decision. They were able to remove the tumor completely. There is a chance she could be fine. It might never come back and she may be able to add “cancer survivor” to her puppy resume. But there is a strong chance that it will come back. If and when it does, then I’m faced with a difficult decision. Do I go for another surgery? Do I really want to put her through that if she is just going to continue to have problems? Do I just let the cancer keep growing until she is uncomfortable and then put her down?
In my mind I just keep thinking about how sad it makes me. Am I sad because I might lose time with her? Of course. But that honestly isn’t what makes me the saddest. I’m more upset about the fact that she might only get to spend three years on earth. She is the happiest dog I’ve ever head. She doesn’t walk anywhere, she skips. She always has a bounce in her step and her eyes smile. Even when I have a terrible day and all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry, one nudge or lick from her will make me smile. She is kind with strangers and is gentle with children. At night when we are in bed she sleeps at my feet with he head resting on my ankles.
I think one of her favorite times a day is in the morning. She’s a smarty pants and knows that just because my alarm goes off, it doesn’t mean I’m getting up. She does, however, know that when she hears the click of my iPhone opening, she knows I’m reading the news and wakes up. She stands up in the bed and loosens up her spine by stretching her front legs out in front of her and leaning down on her chest. Then, with her sleepy eyes and wagging tail, she crawl up to me. She licks my cheek and craves cuddles. I pet her ears, which are prehaps the softest thing that God has ever created. I rub her eyes and kiss the top of her nose. She rolls on her side and we spoon while I rib her belly and scratch the cute white stripe on her chest. Then I ask her if she wants to go downstairs and wake up the puppies. (My parents two yellow labs who sleep with my brother.) She leaps over me and out of bed and patiently waits at the door while I get out of bed. She races down the stairs to my brother’s bedroom door and scratches at it with her front left paw. (Apparently she is a south paw, but really she’s ambidextrous.) She never used her front paws until my brother taught her how to shake hands. It was almost as if she never noticed they were there. Now she uses them all the time.
She discovers things with the fiery passion of a child who is seeing things for the first time. She is very inquisitive and it is constantly getting her in trouble.
For example there is the story of the Oreos. I had purchased a package of Oreos that had quickly disappeared. I assumed my brother had taken them to his bedroom or something. Every night she’d come sauntering into the living room with an Oreo in her mouth. She’d lay on the ottoman and take her time eating it. She’d separate the cookies and lick off all the cream before finally munching down on the cookies. Again, I made the assumption that my brother was sneaking her Oreos at night. That was until I was in my bedroom one night and she was laying on the floor with her head under my bed. I wondered what she was staring at so intently. I got down on the floor with her and had every intention of getting out her ball or toy that had snuck under the bed and was out of her reach. What did I find? A package of Oreos. Somehow she hid and entire package of Oreos under my bed. She was laying there guarding them. Making sure they were still there. I was extremely impressed with her self control. Most dogs would have chowed down on the entire package. Despite not being happy with her deception, I was a little bit proud of her. She got them off the counter, hid them, and was slowly savoring her victory. I shook my head at her, told her that Oreos weren’t puppy food, and threw them away. She watched me do it and her eyes were so sad. It was as if I had stolen all of her joy.
She is a silly girl and I tell her that constantly. Her favorite thing to do when I’m cooking something in the kitchen is to go into the living room and take all the pillows off the couch, She starts by hopping up on the couch and kicking off the throw pillows and the back pillows. Then she leaps off the couch onto the pillows. She kicks the out of her way before diving her head under the seat cushions. That is when the real fun starts. She uses her nose to flip them up and off the couch. She makes sure that she sniffs the couch and gobbles up and crumbs that might have snuck their way under the cushions.
I’ve certainly had some crazy times with her. She adores going for rides in the car. You can ask her, “Do you want to go for a car ride?” She knows that that means and races for the front door where she patiently sits while you dig out her leash and attach it. As she sticks her head out the window she sniffs the air, with her ears flapping in the wind. Sometimes I forget to put the window lock on and her huge puppy paws roll down the window all the way. That is when she gets excited and I freak out.
As kind, loving, and nice as she is with people, she’s an excellent guard dog. She will spend hours at the front window, resting her chin on the windowsill as she sprawls out on the floor. When one of her people pulls up in the driveway she hops up and scurries to the front door to greet them. But if someone comes up to the door who isn’t one of her people, she starts to growl. Growling is just a warm-up to her big dog bark. She has a very deep bark and sounds incredibly vicious. I find this hysterical since she is so sweet. She really is a gentle giant who just loves to protect her family.
I’ve had other dogs before that I’ve loved very much. My last dog, Maggie (short for Lady Margaret Thatcher) was a good dog. She was a yellow lab and had the personality to match her hair color. A big ditzy puppy that had my heart. But she was no Molly. Molly is special. My bond with her is like no other.
She is such a fantastic companion. I couldn’t ask for a better dog. If I have to put her down I will do it. I love her so much and I don’t want her to suffer. He comfort and quality of life is much more important that any selfish desires I might have keep her in my life. I don’t know what will happen in the future. But what I do know is that she’s special, I love her, and I’ll cherish every last moment I get to spend with her. Here’s hoping those moments add up to ten years.
