Today, we took the longest drive with Molly. Today we put her to rest.
We’d been tackling structural problems with Molly for several months, and after many exams to see what could be going on, she stabilized. However, she started having other problems, and we started looking into what was join on.
On Friday, we took Molly into the vet, and had a specialist do a sonogram on her. The news wasn’t good. She had an inoperable tumor that was taking up half her bladder, along with creeping into other parts of her. Essentially, we were talking about days of time left before she would descend into a really painful life.
After talking with the vet Friday, we set an appointment for this afternoon to let her go, and avoid the pain and suffering that was just around the corner. By far, this was the hardest thing I’ve had to do since Dad died almost ten years ago.
So today, Becky and I took her to the vet, and sat with her while she slipped away. It really was as peaceful as the vet described, and she just slowly went to sleep on my foot, eventually leaving us.
This afternoon’s been really tough, with four fewer big paws stomping around the house. We know she’s better off though, as what was in front of her was miserable and agonizing.
There’s an old Swiss saying: “Three years a puppy, three years a good dog, three years an old dog. All else is a gift from God.” With Molly, we had all that, but for us, it was 3,604 days as a gift from God.
Colin and Becky and family, I am truly sorry for your loss. I know how hard this is. You did the right thing for Molly and she was lucky to have good people like you. -Tom
Guys, I am so sorry about Molly. Even though the brain knows you did the right thing, the heart still breaks. Just remember she is at the Rainbow Bridge, waiting for you. I love you.
Thanks Tom — I think we were the lucky ones! Almost ten years with such a wonderful companion… it’s definitely hard, but I know it was the right thing to do.
And Mom, you’re right — Getting the heart to hear the logic and compassion from the brain is tough.
I love you, too.
Damn Colin, you made me tear up with this story. I never had the pleasure of meeting Molly, but have heard many great stories from you and Becky. Those that pass live will always be alive in your thoughts.
Colin…you know how sorry I am to hear this. Our dogs are family. Know you did what was right for Molly…even if it pains you so…
A friend sent me this when I went through something similar with Mulligan…it touched me…maybe it will do the same for you…
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
– Mary Elizabeth Frye