“If Jesus had a dog, it would have followed him up the hill to Golgotha” - Sign at a pet cemetery
There are many milestones in one’s life. The first car. The first kiss. The birth of a child. All become grand memories we can later look back on, smile, and feel joyful that some magic can really happen in this world. In November of 2009, I had embarked on one such milestone, getting my first dog. After searching for weeks and having no success, I finally met and adopted Belle, our Border Collie mix. She would become like a first child to Katelyn and me. An ever present friend that will always be excited to see us, no matter how bad the day has been or what mood Katelyn and I are in.
My family has always had a dog. My earliest memory of my interaction with any animal was with Muffy, my parents’ first Springer Spaniel. I remember sitting on the back porch with Muffy and making a point to pet her. In this memory, my toddler self realized that if I pet her for just a little while, she would, in turn, lick my hand. Looking back as an adult, this is a very young memory of showing affection to a dog and that dog reciprocating. Not only that, but these dog things would always come up to see what you were doing and be involved. Fast forward to 2009, I now had my first dog. It was time to take her to Jackson to meet the rest of the family. Belle walked into my parent’s house where my father knelt down to meet her. In her own way, she sniffed around the kitchen until finally coming up to Dad. He scratched behind her ears, she sniffed his hand and gave it a lick. “You’ll like it here, Belle.” dad said, “We’re dog people.”
Molly was my parents third Springer. First came Muffy, then Indy, then Molly. I am not sure the full story of why my parents decided it was time to get Molly, but soon after we moved to Tennessee they decided to get a puppy. I would like to think I had something to do with it. For weeks I had been begging to get a dog. Not just a family dog, but one that would be “my dog”. The story goes that Dad went ahead of Mom and me to look at some Springer puppies. It might be my dog, but Dad was going to pick it out. When he got to the pin, one puppy was actually laying in the food bowl, trying to get as much down before her brothers and sisters had any. Dad would later tell Mom, “I want that one that was in the bowl, with the white streak on her back and two black spots on her nose.” Mom drove me to the breeder, introduced me to Molly, and said, “Do you like this one? This is going to be your dog.” It was love at first sight. Finally, a puppy that would be mine. I think I hugged that dog so hard it yelped. Molly was a smart puppy. She learned “sit” fast and, to my memory, did not have much trouble being house broken. This, however, is where reality set in for me. This puppy was a responsibility; keeping me up crying, chewing on everything in my room, and peeing on my bed. Like so many other children, I soon pawned “my dog” off on mom and dad. Most people with dogs can tell you, they will sometimes find one person in the family that will be their “master”. The dog will usually be joined at the hip and always keep an eye on that person. This was not the case with Molly. For most of her younger years, she was every one's dog. As the years went on, she fit right into our family. She was there when my brother and I came home from grade school always greeting us at the door with a wagging tail. She was also there as we both left for college to start new chapters in our lives. My parents went through the “empty nest” syndrome like most others, but Molly was there to happily fill the void Travis and I left when we went off to school. She became my parents “child” and was spoiled accordingly. Just as before, she was an ever present friend as these other milestones came and passed. Always willing to listen to anything you had to say, never saying if you were wrong, and ready to meet you at the door with her tail wagging to show how happy she was to see you. During this time, my father started working from home. The family joke became that Molly was his secretary. She would sit upstairs on the couch all day keeping dad company as he worked. She was still every one's dog, but she also became dad’s best friend.
A week or two ago, I got an email from Dad. Molly had been losing weight even though she ate like crazy. The prognosis from the vet came back bleak. In Dad’s words,”(the vet) confirmed my worst fear that (Molly) has cancer.” The vet said that any sort of treatment would make her very sick and most likely kill a dog her age. The best thing would be to take her home, make her feel comfortable, and dad would know when it was time to put her to sleep. That time came this Tuesday. Molly peacefully passed in Jackson where she had always been. She was a good dog. She was our dog. In Dad’s words, “She truly has been and still is the best dog in the world, and I hope everyone can experience at least one Molly in their lives.” We will remember you, Molly, as being the best dog “dog people” could ask for.
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable. All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigour; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again.
The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together
.... Author unknown
I cried when I read this. I know loosing a family pet is sooo hard! We will be praying for ya'll!
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