Everywhere I go people ask me how Molly is doing. It’s
very gratifying to hear how concerned my friends are about her, and it also demonstrates
the incredible emotional power that animals have in our lives. So many people
have told me their own stories about a beloved pet that had to be put down and
how horrible a thing it was to do. And yet, somehow in the telling, they are
transported back into great memories of their time together, and soon the
stories begin, stories of humor and tenderness, that make the pain of loss
somehow worth it in the end.
Molly has good days and bad. This past Thursday was
a bad day. She had no appetite, was listless, and showed no interest in even
being patted. Every now and then she would let out a soft groan where she lay
on the floor, as if in pain. I began to think that the decision that I haven’t
wanted to even think about was at hand. But then Friday morning she began to
rally. Her appetite returned along with some of the old perkiness and
enthusiasm for snuggling. Before the end of the day and ever since, she has
been something approaching her old self.
I gave Molly her weekly bath Saturday, and was
reminded that she indeed is sick. As I ran my hands across her back and sides I
could feel her ribs and the hard edge of her backbone, something I have never
been able to do before. I had to take extra gentle care, since at times she
stiffened at my touch. This was particularly sad since she has always loved bath
time. Now, it seems a labor.
But, she still eats, goes to the bathroom and seems
happy and engaged, so I suppose that the round- about answer to the question, “How
is Molly”, is Molly is doing alright. For me, the hard part is the waiting. I
so wish that I could look into her eyes and ask her how she’s feeling and once,
just one time, she could answer me in English, “I feel like crap, Dad. Its
time.” or “I feel perfectly fine! Don’t worry about me. You’re doing a great
job.” But she doesn’t speak my language. She speaks a dog language full of
feeling and intuition, packed with raised eyebrows, cold nose nudges and heavy
sighs. I must pay close attention, or I’ll miss something.
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