This will be my only post this week. As weeks go this in going to be a very difficult one for my family... Gary, Jonathan and myself.
I can barely write this post, my heart is so broken, and the tears just won't cease, but write it, I will - because the subject of this post is so very deserving of my words, tears and most of all my love.
We have decided that the time has come to say goodbye to our Beloved Molly. It has been a decision long coming, so painful to even consider, and so very hard to make. Those of you who have long-time pets, know how difficult and painful this process is.
Molly has been deteriorating for some time. I have written about her trials here many times, but I have not been totally honest with how much she has been going through these past almost two years. Her sudden blindness was difficult - but she over came that obstacle in true Molly fashion. She has never shown aggression, she has never cried or become demanding... she has bore her sentence silently as she does most everything.
She is blind and she has Cushings Syndrome, which has escalated greatly in the past few weeks. She also has a tumor on the side of her neck which has tripled in size in the past two weeks. She now has a unsteady gait at times, and frequent confusion, and although it is not often, occasionally she will softly - so very softly cry out when she is trying to lie down.
We cannot let her suffer more than she already is - especially since she doesn't seem to want us to know she is suffering - and so we have made an appointment to end her suffering peacefully on Wednesday afternoon this week.
She has been an exceptional companion, and more than that she has been an exceptional healer. When I was undergoing my cancer treatment, Molly never left my side - she barely ate, or slept - instead she watched me. She would get as close as she could to me and gently press on my chest where she new my breast was missing. Within a few weeks of my mastectomy, she removed all the fur from the right side of her body - the same side as my mastectomy - and she didn't let it grown back for a very long time.
When Gary lost his vision - it was Molly who looked after him in the house during the day when I was at work. Many times she warned him of danger, and prevented him from being hurt.
Molly is no ordinary dog. Our vet said she had a gift, and I believe that is so.
Even today when I have been crying so much and just not dealing well with our decision - it has been Molly who has come and comforted me and not left my side.
How do you say goodbye to such a special friend?
I am at peace with our decision - it is the right thing to do for her - but how to cope without her in our lives is an entirely different matter.
Years ago I taught Molly that face kissing was something I didn't approve of in a dog, and so instead she has always snuck her kisses whenever a hand came near. If you reached down to pick up her food or water bowl and she was close by - you got a kiss. If you bent down to put on your shoes and Molly was there - you got a kiss. If you petted, rubbed or cuddled - your hand got many kisses... she knew the face was out - but the hands were fair game.
Even in her blindness she has kept this practice... even as frail as she is right now - her appreciation of everything you do for her - is still, rewarded with a kiss.
And so tomorrow we will spend our last full day together. We will take lots of pictures, we will cuddle, we will kiss, and on Wednesday I will tell her how much I love her, and I will thank her for 13 wonderful years together as part of our family. I will even allow a face kiss - but I bet I will get the hand variety without even asking.
And on Thursday - we will learn how to go on without our beautiful girl.