Meeting Molly

Last week I wrote about the loss of my cat Max. I still miss him. This week I want to write about someone else.molly 3

This is Molly.

She is two and a half years old German Sheperd/Husky mix and, until recently, belonged to an 85-year-old woman in Georgia. Molly spent her days loved but on a chain in the backyard. Then her owner got sick and couldn’t take care of her anymore. Her owner’s son tried for a bit but he had health problems too. Soon Miss Molly was at the animal shelter and slated to be put to sleep.

Both her owner and her son were heartbroken. Molly was such a sweet girl and deserved better. So they reached out to friends and family on facebook, begging someone to adopt her before it was too late. Time was running out.

Then a distant cousin reposted their desperate plea. (Try to follow me on this connection, I know I should have created a flow chart but I didn’t think about it until now.) This distant cousin was my cousin’s best friend growing up. My cousin passed away at least 18 years ago. (We were very close but she had CF and was limited in what she could do. I grew up with asthma and so we bonded over our closeness in age and inability to breath.)

So here it is, a very long time since I have set eyes on this person, and I see a facebook post about this adorable dog about to be put to sleep just because she doesn’t have anyone to take care of her. I would have happily continued to care for my Max, but there was only pain waiting for him and eventually death. His was a hopeless situation. Molly’s was not.

I have never really been a dog person. We have Duke but he hardly qualifies because he

Duke
Duke

is so small. (But don’t tell him I said that.) However, my heartstrings were plucked as I looked at the post. I wasn’t ready for another cat, but maybe I could take in this dog who needed someone. We could sort of help each other.

I messaged my cousin’s friend, who messaged her cousin, and the race was on. We had to get her before the execution could be carried out. Sabrina’s (my cousin’s friend) cousin got her from the pound that night. Sabrina and her son drove down the next day. (My kid had a doctor’s appointment so we couldn’t go pick her up directly.) Then they brought her straight to my house.

At first, Molly was nervous and shy, though she quickly adapted. We’ve learned a lot about each other in the week or so that she has been here. She has learned that if I am writing at my computer and she lays directly behind the chair, I have to give her tummy rubs before I can get up. I have learned she has a mischievous personality and knows exactly how cute she is, and uses it to her advantage when she gets in trouble or doesn’t want to go outside.  Molly is very sweet and loves attention. I am still not sure that I am a dog person, but I do know that I am this dog’s person.

molly 4

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Mourning Max

3This May I lost my cat Max to cancer. It was sudden and I wasn’t prepared. I took him to the vet because he wouldn’t eat; I thought I was being overprotective and they would tell me he had a cold or something. I thought “better safe than sorry”.  Turns out sorrow can creep up on you even if you are trying to be safe.

The doctor came back after doing some x-rays to let me know Max wasn’t going to get better. She had felt a mass in his abdominal region and wanted to get a better look. The mass showed up as several tumors that were pushing down on his digestive system. He couldn’t eat or drink because he couldn’t go to the bathroom. There was nowhere for the waste to go and it would only get worse until he eventually died in great pain.

During this explanation, Max kept trying to crawl back into his carrier. He wanted to go home. He didn’t feel well and he wanted me to hold him or take him home. I shattered.

I had Max from the time he was a tiny kitten. I probably have other posts about him on this blog. He showed up on my porch three years ago with a bad eye infection. He 4eventually lost both his eyes, yet being blind never slowed him down.

He knew when it was time for me to come home from work and would wait near the door for my arrival. Then he would stand up on his hind paws and reach up, like a toddler, wanting to be picked up for cuddles. He very rarely meowed, we joked that it interfered with his sonar, but his purr was strong and deep.

So there I stood in the vet’s office facing the worst possible scenario. They advised that we put him to sleep. The cancer was too widespread for them to operate. They asked that I stay with him while they got him prepared, in order to keep him calm. I didn’t want my baby to suffer any more than he already was so I agreed. I stroked his soft black fur as the injected him with a tranquilizer. I eased him down to his side as it took effect.

7 Tears blinded me through the whole processes. Yet when the vet came in with the final shot I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t watch the life leave him, so I gathered my things and fled. I couldn’t tell you what the vet bill was. I just shoved my credit card at them, signed where the told me, and then left.

I could have taken the body home but I wasn’t strong enough at that point to deal with it. So the vet’s office took care of that as well. (They are a very well respected office in my city. A bit more pricey than some others but the way they treat the animal is worth it. They didn’t just dump him in the trash can out back.)

2So here I am. It’s two months later and my heart is still broken. I miss my Max terribly. We have two other cats and I love them, but I was Max’s person. The other cats have claimed my kids. Our chihuahua is without a doubt my son’s dog. All the animals have been giving me extra attention since Max passed away but there is still a hole…

 

 

This story has been more difficult to write than I thought it would be so I am going to have to cut it in half. This is the sad half. Like most serious events in life, this experience clings to me. However, there is a light of hope and happiness. Her name is Molly. I will tell that story in the next post.