Bearnaise Sauce Dogs, Grief

Since Molly

Tomorrow it will be four weeks since Molly. That should be possessive: Molly's _____. But I'm having trouble putting a word there this morning.

Yesterday Pure Luck shared a conversation with a co-worker, a person whose German Shepherd had a miraculous arthritis recovery after steroid shots. Of all the things we tried, that was never one of them, not in the array of suggestions from our vets, and after hearing the story, we both felt like we had killed her.

That's a hard enough thing to feel when you're together and working through it, but that much harder when you're far apart geographically.

On Friday I took Sam to one of our favorite places, Posh Neighboring Town Nature Preserve, the first time I've gone alone with him to walk off-leash since Molly. I avoided places that might hurt, sticking to walks in the neighborhood with Sam, especially after a tearful walk around Mackworth Island on Snowman's brief visit home two weeks ago. But Pure Luck pointed out, rightly, that Sam deserved better, and Friday I made up my mind to take him. He's been pretty serious, since Molly. I wanted to see him run.

We followed the red trail and he bounded ahead of me down a hill and up again, and we turned off on the blue trail and plowed our way through snow, and we wound around back and forth until my head got so sweaty that taking my hat off became worse rather than better.

And at each turning, at each crossroads, at each landmark, I felt Molly. Here she liked to lie down in the water and cool off. Here she got so excited the first time we took the white trail with the children. Here she got #1 Son and me back on the orange trail when we went the wrong way. Here I took a picture of Molly and Sam together in last winter's snow.

2008 Pictures 261

This is hard, walking the grief trail, where some of the blazes feel reliable and expected, while others lead to tender places we would rather not visit, yet must.

27 thoughts on “Since Molly”

  1. Walking the grief trail…so true whether it be for our pets or other “deaths” in our life. ((SB))

  2. There are so many shoulda/coulda/wouldas in life, Songbird. You gave Molly a loving home and a gentle passage. I hope you can take some comfort in that…

  3. ((((Songbird))))
    You loved Molly so well, and she you, and I’m happy to share her via your stories.
    When we had to put our cat down last Thanksgiving, the hardest thing was dealing with Curious Girl’s questions: why can’t we have just one more day, Mama? Just one more day, please? No matter how many days, there would never be enough. We would always want just one more. Looking at that beautiful picture, I can see how much you enjoyed your days with your two beautiful dogs. Of course you want more. I hope eventually the memories of your loving time together will be a comfort.

  4. There is never enough time when you love deeply. Somehow, it is just a matter of believing that what you had will sustain you.

  5. Here is some comfort. We put our first collie on steroid shots for severe allergies. The steroids messed up his kidneys and several other things and made him miserable. We had to have him put down because of the steroids after 1 year. We felt like we killed him because we didn’t try homeopathy longer.
    You loved her and did the best for her with the knowledge you had. As to shoulda- there likely would’ve been consequences to those decisions too.

  6. I can relate to this. Just this weekend we were telling FT’s cousin about Cassie, and he he told us their dog almost died from some mysterious bout of apparent poisoning, but suddenly came out of it after a week with no further ill effects. My thought was, “Let’s not even go there.” I trust our vet’s informed opinion that there was no hope for Cassie.
    Meanwhile…Miss Gertie is blossoming as an only dog. A lot of her behavior problems, like obsessive/compulsive chewing and housebreaking lapses, have disappeared. So right now we’re kind of feeling guilty about our happiness, if that makes any sense. We hate to think that something about Cassie was provoking Gertie’s bad behaviors, but…we’re just glad Gertie is growing into a really sweet dog.

  7. It so hurts to lose a beloved, whether animal or human. And of course hindsight always is 20/20. Hugs and love to you, dear Songbird.

  8. You’re in my prayers today. I wish my Jazz could have met your Molly… they would have played.
    Peace to you today.

  9. (((Songbird))), I can so relate to the grief trail. You are in my thoughts and prayers.
    Peace and love,

  10. I’m so sorry. Our dog was on steroids for his arthritis. As you know steroids are not the greatest. He died about a year later. I don’t know if the steroids extended his life, or his pain.

  11. The “might have beens” and “if onlys” can be so tough when you’re walking that trail of grief.
    Hugs and prayers for you.

  12. I wish I had dogly wisdom, but I don’t. Prayers and thinking of you, as you walk the grief trail with many hearts nearby.

  13. I’m sorry for the added grief you are feeling. I do believe you tried everything you knew to try.

  14. poo on that person. I don’t think that was a kind thing for her to tell you.
    love you.

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