Are dogs a man’s best friend? Do they have superpowers? Do all dogs go to heaven?
Miss Molly was AMAZING! A sheltie who gave the best hugs…yes, she would hug in her own way. She would bury her head into your body. A sheltie who loved affection. If your hand wasn’t touching her, she would use her nose to nudge your hand up so it rested on her head. A sheltie who was an amazing companion.
I am typing “was” because…well…she passed. At 17 years old. 17 x 7 (for human years) = 119. We all can agree that is an old age. When I communicated the news to our kids, I texted, “This is the last living thing of my parents.”
Back story…my dad’s very first dog, in his retired life, was a sheltie named “Lady.” She was everything to my dad. He was home full time while my mom worked for insurance. Lady was a companion while mom was out of the house. Lady passed and I took Dad to the local shelter to find another companion. We brought home “Squirt.” She was a mixture of a lot of breeds. Small which was good. But she was not a good fit for the home. So onward my dad and mom looked. Molly came up for adoption; another sheltie. This seemed like a better fit and it was.
Molly followed my dad everywhere and would guard the house to the best of her abilities…aka bark…and bark…and bark. What’s funny is the wild animals, the turkeys and deer, would actually know if Molly was outside or inside the house. A natural border. When “border patrol Molly” was inside the house, these wild animals would make their way into her territory and eat the bird seed on the ground from the feeders. But if they sensed she was outside, the invisible border was enforced and the wild animals kept their distance.
Then Molly became my mom’s dog. My dad passed very quickly…within three months of a diagnosis of cancer…but that is for another day. Molly now became her companion. Both my mom and Molly lost someone special to them. Mom would take her for car rides and long walks through the neighborhood. Molly would follow her around leaving her long dog hair behind, waiting to be pet or on border patrol.
Then Molly became my brother’s dog. Mom passed after a two-year battle with pancreatic cancer…but that is for another day. Molly went to live with my brother in Wisconsin for the rest of her days. As she got older and weaker and my family went to visit, we would always leave their house with selfies and hugs with Miss Molly. Never knowing if this would be the last time we would see her.
When my brother called a few days ago and said it was time. I knew. I knew it was time. She lived a long life doing her job of being a companion and border patrol. But why was it hard to let go? Why do I hang on? Why do I cling to the past? So many mixed emotions. So hard to let go. Am I letting go of Molly or letting go of my parents all over again? Why did I tell my kids that this was the last living thing of my parents…when that isn’t true.
My brother and I are still living. We are still our parents’ living things. I see my dad and mom in my brother, in my kids and in me. Little genetic pieces and little influence pieces. The genetic pieces like height, lips, eyes, wavy hair and tendencies. The influence pieces like serving, compassion, quality time spent and hobbies.
Miss Molly will be missed. I have to let go of the past but not forget. Not forget the way she gave hugs and the way she protected her territory. I will not forget my parents by choosing to see my parents in those around me; those living people. That is how they will be remembered.
I am ONE story
~ Kristy