MOLLI

14.2.2008 - 15.5.2020

 FRIDAY 15 MAY 2020

Today we said goodbye Molli.

Our small ray of light caught on Earth for a short time brightened our day, every day. She left exactly twelve years to the day on 15th May 2008, a six-week-old bundle of smooth black fur with amber eyes that had a twinkle we both were immediately captivated with when they chose her 6 weeks prior. She touched so many of our family, friends and guests - every dog owner knows their dog is special - but for John and me, it was her instinctive qualities, intelligence, compassion and utter unconditional love for us both that made her a joy to be round and, who gave us it back more than we could ever be thought was possible and so we became a family - and what was soon to be adopted 'the 3 musketeers'.

She arrived at 94DR only a month and a half later, but we ( or should I say - bad dad), John always the good dad - had trained her religiously to be both friendly, house trained and of course never to jump up to people or to be a yappy little girl. Molli, I soon learned was a pleaser, (my training was secondary), it was her instinctive understanding that the big house (94DR) which she knew was her new home had rules - these rules had to be obeyed and guests loved her, really loved her and she gave it back in bucket loads, always with those eyes and so her routine began. Wake at 5.30 am, a short walk, breakfast and then for her back to bed for guest breakfast prep.

John told her the role, it was house hound in charge of guest relations overseeing breakfast she took to it with the love and passion she gave everything, occasionally looking to myself or John for acknowledgement, or well deserved "whose a clever girl".

Religiously and without fail at the sound of the first guest she would appear and take her perch, never entering the dining room, just watching calmly drawing her prey in. Uncannily she could spot a non-dog lover who needed converting, a returning guest who needed a welcome back, even those with dog fear she would slowly captivate later, all this was noted scanning as her congregation as they ate. Watching, spying, who were the droppers! Instinctively she knew when all guests had finished eating, then and only then would descend to say hello working the room like a consummate maître d'. Finally, and with an empty room, every delicious morsel was hers for the taking, for she was never a beggar, but boy she loved to eat and eat everything she did, well celery excluded! I'll get to that story.

This routine has gone on daily over the lifetime of 94R, those of you who had stayed with us will have witnessed it. J and I hope you each have a memory, a special way in which you were greeted when you came a-knocking, ringing the bell - for late lunch, supper, late-night cards, food, wine, a coffee, sweets, pigs ears for Molli, a poo ( you know who you are) or all of those. That memory you'll be able to regale when we see you; that love you know she gave only to you, always sharing and never once did anyone feel left out, she knew how to work us, knew our characters and that was her intellect, her compassion for people - We often remarked that considered herself as human always more interested in us than of her canine pack

Food is Scots love, and to be well fed is to know you are truly loved, and Molls like to be loved.- alot! Molls had her ultimate favourites, fresh mango, tropical taste, in fact, all fruit, even the ones you shouldn't give to dogs (grapes we'd have to eat secretly). Molli loved everything and never once turned away in disgust; why should she, we taught her to have a sophisticated palette. We say in her early day in a Miss Jean Brodie way Molli is learning to love Italian, as she'd wolf left down leftover pasta Pescatore shells and all. Those of you who knew her well will know of her early days on the BARF diet, where you adopt and nose to tail approach to food, in a dogs case that also involves all skin, shells, bones. Often we'd hear surprise comments as she munched down stuffed olives - a dog who eats everything - really?

So to a lifelong marmite affair with celery, every time she heard that crunch she was interested, every time we'd go you don't like it, she'd stare you down, go on let me try again! No no no - it's disgusting - it was always spat out. Although Molli and J did eventually discover a fix, add lashings of peanut butter, you get all the crunch, none of the celery taste as Peanut butter sticks to the roof your mouth at tongue and goes down last.

I could write forever but so with all stories, there is an end and so with everything life teaches us where there is love, there is a loss. In some, this virus was impacting her, her enemy too, I don't think she understood why people didn't call anymore, why the house wasn't full and we sensed a sadness in her. That and her annoyance not being able to run and walk as we'd done with the ongoing osteoarthritis limiting her movement, she was a frustrated old lady! But recently there was more, laboured breathing, a cough so, dutifully as off to her to see her physician who despite having operated, injected, prodded her and scolded her on her weight, she would continue to go on 'til the end, implicitly trusting, Vet Scott.

Scott hadn't seen Molli in 3 months; an invasive investigation was offered, but we decided, with past knowledge, to go with simple antibiotics and steroids in the hope she'd rally and not put her through the stress going under Steroids, like so many drugs, for Molli have side effects and we knew within a week that we needed to stop, her breathing had become more laboured and those poor back legs were putting tremendous strain onto her spinal cord and with her lungs, only giving her percentage of what she should be breathing, Molli was in real pain, this past week saw us sleep downstairs as she often lost control of her bladder and we often had to lift her the 2 steps from Orangery to her bed and then sometimes when lying down she couldn't get up at all.

On Thursday we went back to see Scott, to be faced with a decision no dog owner ever wants to take. Maybe it was selfishness, buying time, hoping for a miracle but in we had her home for 24 hours to say goodbye. So short a time to say farewell without prolonging suffering with her favourites, mango, ham I had roasted and bones and treats the last supper as always she ate with gusto. We slept together in one room, as always we woke with the sun coming in, with emotions and looking for reassurance I settled to asked her whether we were making the right decision. As she nuzzled into me and looked deep into me, I knew as it was time. John had the same moment of deep connection where she physically bonds you, stair into your eyes in such a way you had a complete understanding, it's was time. As we reflect, leaving Molli with dignity, not a crumbling mess, not letting things become an emergency but calmly and to peacefully with those she loved and although I type with tears that feel like rivers flowing down my face, we still believe we made the right decision for Molli, our wonderful, beautiful girl that lifted our life higher than we ever thought possible.

To our dearest forgive for not sharing the recent weeks events, but in these strange isolated times, and not wanting to burden, we've been three together but we know not alone.

I sprayed her coat with J’s and my colognes, I wanted to know we were close, we talked about her favourite places her best walks. Molli's favourite red collar, given by friends, was left on to say she is still ours. yet in a new place where she can be young, play and run with her brothers and sisters who are all waiting, For, Molli, although the weakest, the last of 8 puppies born to her curly chocolate- mother Meg and her golden Doodle loathario dad Frank.

We both held her, tears on her fur, sleep was fast and then she was gone.

In time, when our own fearsome family of friends and loved ones are reunited together We'll take to the slopes of Blackford Hill, were on a blustery Scot's day where when the wind runs through you, there are moments you feel you are up and away over the blackened spires of city's old town, swept down Hanover Street like Georgian runway to Forth and onwards out to sea. On that day we will scatter your ashes to commemorate our loyal love and raise a glass to friendship in all in forms. Everyone is taught that angels have wings, but the lucky ones of us find they have 4 paws. Fly!