She's been the best dog. You've all heard that before. Maybe you've spoken it about your dog. Not me. The hubs friends used to refer to me as the reptile, because... I have no idea. Maybe something to do with the fact that we had a dumb dog, and I had no patience for stupidity in an animal. It's bad enough you expect to live in my house, eat my food, while I clean up after you... and you bring absolutely nothing to the table. Hopefully.
One day the dog up and died (I've always wanted to say that) and everyone looked at me. Seriously, she literally up and died, and I had nothing to do with it. Wink. Kidding!
But Molly... she's smart, so smart. Sneaky, so sneaky. Stubborn, yup. She is a smart German with great legs. That's how I refer to her. A few years ago I had an idea to write a book about the dog food diet. You eat two bowls of whatever your heart or stomach desires, incorporated with exercise. A couple hours of running from tree to tree, lunging at other dogs, squirrels, birds. Sounds so simple. The results, you are toned and trim, like your dog. They say people resemble their dogs which is why we have three Weimaraners. I didn't choose pugs for a reason and I didn't choose Weims because they are easy to live with. They resemble a pack of wild elephants most days.
But Molly, the family dog. That's who she will always be. Ali had her named two years before she was born. She was from Kankakee, Illinois and when we went to get her, her mama and pop were there. He was a dark blue towering hulk of a dog and I wondered what Molly would grow to be.
Powerful and passionate is the best way to describe her. She earned the nickname Cujo after years of lunging at other dogs while on lead. She was concerned that poodle might stab her mom I guess. She was seventy five pounds of muscle. My shoulders haven't been the same since, nor have my yards, woodwork, screen doors... the list is endless.
Molly is loyal to her people. That extended to my neighbor Jill, who Molly would have left me for in a New York minute. Jill and her family made the mistake of moving a couple miles away when Molly was about three yrs old. Jill had been visiting and when she left, Molly followed her, unbeknownst to us. As in running down the neighborhood streets, headed for the highway. Jill noticed Molly in her rearview mirror and pulled over, where Molly happily jumped in.
This same friend and I left our weims at the most amazing indoor/outdoor pet hotel, but these pups preferred their humans. Dogs are beneath them. Aloof is their middle name, except for a dog named Olive. Jill's dog Olive. Olive is Molly's girl crush. Think the craziest response a dog could have when she sees another dog... that's Molly when she sees Olive. Olive's reaction... snarling, teeth bared. Yes, it was love at first site. Olive got better after Molly's initial gush. Over the years I watched Molly share the same emotions toward other puppies that thought she was the cat's meow.
Molly was the kid that always wished she had been born into that other family. Jills.
The first time Molly was left at this amazeballs pet hotel, she scaled the five foot plus fence. When I returned the owner said she had to raise the fence and let Molly into her house. Goodnight. This was my life. My kids never missed me so much and I tried to explain to Molly that I wasn't really that nice, ask anyone. She should enjoy her time with others. Go play kid.
Molly was patient as we dressed her up, but was easily embarrassed. One year I made a calendar of Molly for our daughter to take to college, because even though she HAD to have Molly The Weim, she also HAD to go to college, six hours away and NOT take her. That calendar was hard, ridiculous and I give props to Willy Wegman!
One Saturday the hubs and I drove into our cul de sac, and we saw Molly trotting along the front of the houses towards home. Staying close to the houses, in a half circle, to get from the lake to our house. Like she was doing reconnaissance training, and didn't want to be seen. We got out of our car as she happily greeted us. "Molly, why are you out here and where is Dan?" No answer. We all go inside where we find the sliding door slightly open. Slightly, as in a Weim slid through. Dan was upstairs unaware.
I shut the door and walk into my living room and saw the remains of a goose egg, shell, slime, bleck on my rug. My really nice, expensive rug... that I bought with Jill on a trip to North Carolina. Does anyone have a concern with Jill yet? She seems to be part of the problem.
Molly is sniffing and licking the remains. I'm trying not to gag. An hour later as I am still cleaning the rug, Molly has somehow snuck out again and the hubs finds her trotting up the driveway. He sees something in her mouth and before engaging brain, he mouths, "drop" which she immediately does, because she listens to him! A large goose egg drops and cracks on the driveway. Goodnight! She was back at the scene of the crime and thought she would go two for two. Goodnight Molly.
We celebrated our neighbor Nette's birthday in our back yard one summer day. At one point we see Molly with one of their dogs toys in her mouth. Sure enough she walked into their back yard, opened the screen door and helped herself to a toy. She also helped herself to our neighbors turtles one day. Pet turtles. It was terrible, turtle parts tossed in the air. Dogs think everything is a toy, till someone loses a limb. Horror. Yet Brenda still talks to me. And the kids survived. We still laugh about it, but ouch. Goodnight Molly!
When we adopted the other terrible, horrible, despicable Weims, Molly would have nothing to do with them. For six months she would not walk into the room where their crate was. She was disgusted. How could we? What were we thinking?
On the puppies first birthday Ali made puppy peanut butter banana cupcakes for them. We had a sweet little puppy party planned, until Cujo showed up. Evidently Molly thought she wasn't getting her share of peanut butter or attention and she bit Rosie on the nose. She has a cute little scar. Then Jack had the poop scared out of him by Molly. Literally I had picked him up to protect him and people started hollering, "He's pooping." It was a day. Good night Molly.
Things improved and by year three she accepted them and she and Jack became buddies. Three years. Goodnight.
Molly the family dog. She has celebrated so much with us, in four homes and three states. She has licked the icing off her dad's birthday cake on Christmas night as our neighbors watched in horror. We scraped that part off and ate it anyway. She has hidden treats and bones, saving for later in my white sofas and chairs. Recently she brought us a wrapped peanut butter cup and dropped it at our feet. Like, hey wanna share?! She was so proud.
She has punctured cans of diet coke which have sprayed the walls, sucked peanut butter out of unopened but scarred jars, knocked empty bowls of ice cream off the counter, cutting her paws, then walking across my white couch. She has eaten bags of m&m's, lawn fertilizer, thankfully organic... and never suffered the worse.
It's been a sweet eleven years my dear, but it seems it's time to say goodbye. You have run the race well. You have been the best of dogs my sweet friend.
I've found over the years I process through words, mostly written, not spoken. My heart is in my throat and it's hard to see my words being typed. So I will end here with sweet thoughts for Molly May Coleman. You have been the sweetest, smartest, best friend any girl could have asked for and there will never be another you. My protector, my friend, you really got me, like no other dog, ever.
Sunday we say goodbye, or see you on the other side, because we all know dogs go to heaven. Goodnight Molly. We love you. Good night.