(April 1994-October 7, 2005)
Virtual monument created by http://www.jjchandler.com/tombstone
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|Please ::click here:: to leave flowers or a note on Mollie's Find A Grave site|
Mollie's Story (Dogs don't keep ledgers)
We received Mollie as a puppy. I noticed immediately that she was very smart and had a sense of danger that other dogs didn't have. For instance, when you open the front door, some dogs will make a dash for the street, running wild and not knowing that they might be in danger of getting hit by a car. But not Mollie. She would sit and look when the door was opened, but she would only go out if she knew it was safe. She loved going for walks on her leash and she would wiggle her little head through her collar whenever somebody held it out for her. Mollie was with us in two apartments, and finally in the first house that we ever bought in 2000. She loved chasing squirrels and birds in the back yard. Soon after we moved to our house she developed Diabetes and Cushing's Disease. Then the cataracts came. She never complained about her decreasing ability to get around and took her insulin shots and other medication without running away. It was as if she knew these things were there to help her, even though it wasn't fun to get poked and have to swallow capsules every day. Even though she couldn't see clearly, she was able to see shapes and light and was able to get around the back yard and even walk slowly from room to room in the house. I work the night shift and when I would leave for work at night, there was nobody to see me off except Mollie. She was always there at the door to say goodbye. Sometimes she would crunch her dog food and go out before I left, but she always went to the door with me to say goodbye. It must have been difficult for her to make her way back to the bedroom after I left, but this is what she did. And she was there to greet me when I came home in the morning too. In the last few months, sometimes she wasn't there to say hello when I came home in the morning; instead she was still in the bedroom. I would poke around the kitchen for a while and after a few minutes she would poke her fuzzy head around the doorway to say hello. With all of her medical issues, we knew that there would be a time when she would either pass away or we would have to help her make the transition. The really difficult part of making that decision is that you have to rely on them to tell you when it's time, and I was concerned that I wouldn't know. It's not like you can speak to them and say something like, "You've been a faithful friend as well as an important part of the family. If this is all too much for you to take, please tell me and I'll help you make the transition over the Rainbow Bridge." As far as euthanasia was concerned, I was always worried that I would make the decision too soon or too late. Even though she had diabetes, cataracts and Cushings for years, her quality of life was good and she enjoyed riding in the car, chasing birds and just doing what he always did, just more slowly. Her deterioration came quickly over a couple of days. She didn't eat or drink and she vomited for most of a day, then she had a major seizure. We took her to the emergency clinic where they kept her overnight and stabilized her. She didn't have any more seizures that night, so we took her to the vet in the morning and then took her home. I had some baby food that I kept for just this type of emergency but she couldn't keep even a drop of it down. Then she had a couple of small seizures and finally a large one. We rushed her back to the emergency clinic. The told us that given her condition, they weren't sure she could make it through the night. We didn't want her to die alone, in a cage, with people she didn't know so we made the difficult decision at that time to help her go so that she would leave with us there, holding her. The vet said that when the medication that would stop her heart was injected she might urinate or defecate reflexively, but we didn't care. It's only clothes and this was Mollie. But within 15 seconds after the injection, she stopped breathing and she put her little head in my hand and it was over. She was a good girl, even at the end.
A Pet's Prayer
If it should be, that I grow frail and weak,
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then you must do what must be done
For this, the last battle, can't be won.
You will be sad, I understand.
Don't let your grief then stay your hand,
For this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship stand the test.
We've had so many happy years
What is to come can hold no fears.
You'd not want me to suffer, so,
When the time comes, please let me go.
Take me where my needs they'll tend only,
Stay with me to the end,
And hold me firm and speak to me,
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time you will see
It is a kindness you do to me
Although my tail its last has waved
From pain and suffering I've been saved.
Don't grieve it should be you,
Who decides this thing to do,
We've been so close, we two, these years
Don't let your heart hold any tears.
Smile - for we walked together,
For a little while
to Drs. Blonien, Shelton and Whetstone for caring for Mollie over the
years. This magnet was on our refrigerator for a long time.
Also, Dr. John Wayman for his care and Julie Emms at Masters Marketing in the UK for making Trilostane available for Mollie's Cushings Syndrome. And thanks to the Emergency Animal Clinic of Collin County for treating Mollie in her final day and for helping to make Mollie's crossing over the Rainbow Bridge very peaceful. She was a good girl right to the end.
I Stood By Your Bed Last Night
I stood by your bed last night; I came to have a peep. I could see that you
were crying, you found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear, "It's me, I haven't left
you, I'm well, I'm fine, and I'm here."
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea, you were
thinking of the many times, your hands reached down to me.
I was with you at the shops today; your arms were getting sore. I longed to
take your parcels; I wish I could do more.
I was with you at my grave today; you tend it with such care. I want to
reassure you, that I'm not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key. I gently
put my paw on you; I smiled and said "it's me."
You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair. I tried so hard to let you
know, that I was standing there.
It's possible for me to be so near you everyday. To say to you with
certainty, "I never went away."
You sat there very quietly, and then smiled, I think you knew, in the
stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is over... I smile and watch you yawning and say "good-night, God
bless, I'll see you in the morning."
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide, I'll rush
across to greet you and we'll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see. Be
patient, live your journey out ... then come home to be with me.
- Author unknown
I Am Your Dog
I am your dog, and I have a little something I would like to whisper in your ear.
I know that you humans lead busy lives. Some have to work. Some have children to raise. It always seems like you are running here and there, often much too fast, often never noticing the truly grand things in life.
Look down at me now, while you sit there at your computer. See, the way my dark brown eyes look at yours. They are slightly cloudy now. That comes with age. The gray hairs are beginning to ring my soft muzzle.
You smile at me; I see love in your eyes. What do you see in mine? Do you see a spirit? A soul inside, who loves you as no other could in the world? A spirit that would forgive all trespasses of prior wrongdoing for just a simple moment of your time?
That is all I ask. To slow down, if even for a few minutes to be with me.
So many times, you have been saddened by the words you read on that screen, of other of my kind, passing. Sometimes we die young and oh so quickly, sometimes so suddenly it wrenches your heart out of your throat. Sometimes, we age so slowly before your eyes that you may not even seem to know until the very end,
when we look at you with grizzled muzzles and cataract clouded eyes. Still the love is always there, even when we must take that long sleep, to run free in a distant land.
I may not be here next week. Someday you will shed the water from your eyes, that humans have when deep grief fills their souls, and you will be angry at yourself that you did not have just "One more day" with me. Because I love you so, your sorrow touches my spirit and grieves me. We have NOW, together.
So come, sit down here next to me on the floor, and look deep into my eyes. What do you see? If you look hard and deep enough we will talk, you and I, heart to heart. Come to me not as "alpha" or as "trainer" or even "Mom or Dad," come to me as a living soul and stroke my fur and let us look deep into another's eyes, and talk.
I may tell you something about the fun of chasing a tennis ball, or I may tell you something profound about myself or even life in general. You decided to have me in your life because you wanted a soul to share such things with.
Someone very different from you, and here I am.
I am a dog, but I am alive. I feel emotion, I feel physical senses, and I can revel in the differences of our spirits and souls. I do not think of you as a "Dog on two feet"- I know what you are. You are human, in all of your quirkiness, and I love you still.
Now, come sit with me on the floor. Enter my world, and let time slow down if only for 15 minutes. Look deep into my eyes, and whisper to my ears. Speak with your heart, with your joy and I will know your true self.
We may not have tomorrow, and life is oh so very short.
--Love, (on behalf of canines everywhere)
A Shelter Dog asks God
Author: Joan C. Fremo Published on: July 29, 2001
What is "Time"?
I hear the sadness in the voices of workers here. They say my "Time is up", that they have to make room for yet another dog.
My "Time" is up. I don't know what that means, God. I only know that my new friends are so sad, and the more I wag my tail---the harder I try to make them feel better---the sadder they become.
I know I have heard that word "Time" before, but I don't understand. When I was younger, my people would say "Time to play!" They would throw the ball, and I would run fast. Sometimes I brought it back to them, but other times we'd end up chasing each other having fun.
I remember "Time to eat". My people would put down a bowl of food, and I would enjoy dinner, wagging my tail in joy. There was also "Time for your walk". My boy would put my leash on, and we would go walking together, visiting the neighborhood and enjoying each other's company.
When I was younger I thought "Time" meant fun. Or maybe Love? I don't understand. "Time" must mean something else, but how can it change, God? Before I came here, I heard my people say, "No time to feed you now, boy. Later, when I get home." Sometimes my family would forget, and there was no food in my bowl.
Does "Time" mean when my belly hurts?
My people said there was no time for walks. I tried to hold it all day long-- but God, I just couldn't anymore. When I finally had to go, it made my family very angry.
Does "Time" means anger? Or maybe Loneliness?
My family said they didn't have "Time". They didn't have time to play, or time to take me to the vet, or time to go for walks. They didn't have "Time", so they brought me here.
Maybe I was right... They said they didn't have time, and if "Time" means Love, how did they lose it?
Did I do something wrong?
God, I think my new friends are sending me to you. Do you have "Time"? May I sit on the couch?
Am I a good Dog, God?
Is it "Time"?
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