We'll Miss You, Mollie Mae.

For the past several days we have been struggling with a decision to put our dog, Mollie, to sleep. After a lot of tears and discussion, we decided it just wasn't right to let her suffer any longer. Yesterday morning we took her to the vet's office and she did not come home with us. Making the decision to have her put to sleep was very difficult, but a little less so than actually watching it happen. The process itself was not cruel, and our vet and the tech were both very compassionate throughout the process. Brandon and I both sat on the floor holding her and patting her while the drug was administered and within about 45 seconds she was gone. It's an overwhelming thought to know that one minute she was lying there alive and the next she was gone. We were both bawling, which caused Rylie to cry as well. Walking out of that office without her was the hardest part. I'm not sure how I even made it to the car, but I do remember the tech having to help.
I know to some people putting an animal to sleep is just a fact of life, or maybe even a relief. And to some whom are not "dog or animal people" it's a non-issue. To us it was like losing a member of our family. Mollie was our first dog as a married couple, and she was one awesome dog. She was our Marley (for those of you who read the book, and for those who haven't...you should). Mollie had a great spirit. She was gentle and loved kids from the very beginning, even before we had children of our own. In fact, one of my fondest memories of her was the day we brought Rylie home from the hospital. She was so excited she couldn't contain herself. For the first couple of weeks she slept downstairs behind the bassinet rather than her usual place, at the foot of our bed. And once Rylie was moved to his room, she moved along with him. She loved Reese in the same ways.
Another of her great loves in life was chicken...she LOVED the stuff and it didn't matter how it was served. Now matter where she was in the house, she'd come running anytime I started to cook with chicken. Once, in her younger years, she somehow managed to jump on our kitchen counter and help herself to the chicken I left thawing in the sink while we ran to the grocery store. It was an entire bag of raw boneless chicken, and it was GONE when we returned.
Mollie was a lively dog, always full of energy and ready for the next adventure. She loved to play chase, and by that I mean she would run and we would chase after her, until we just couldn't go anymore. She would do anything to go for a ride. We would let her ride with us to the store, the gas station or to a local drive through, where we would occasionally buy her a special treat (her fave was chicken nuggets). She once went on a canoe trip with us off the coast of the Carolinas, and had a blast. I was terrified she was going to bail out of the canoe the whole time, but she never did. She had a great life, and she made our lives better, much better.
In March of 2009 lesions began appearing on her nose and around her eyes. We took her to several different vets before receiving a correct diagnosis. She was diagnosed with Pemphigus, which is an auto-immune skin disorder. We were told from the beginning that is was not curable, but that she could potentially live an enjoyable life with the help of steroids. The steroids helped greatly and she, for the most part, acted normal. Her face looked different, but she was still our happy-go-lucky Mollie. There were a few times the disorder raged out of control, but we would up the dosage of her meds, as the vet recommended, for a short period and then she would be back to her new normal.
This November we noticed the lesions were starting to spread to other parts of her body, and by Christmas she was showing signs of exhaustion. Her new doctor tried changing her medication, but it was obvious that she was not going to pull out of it this time. She had fought long and hard and was tired of fighting, which is what led us to our decision. Brandon and I are in pieces over the loss of our baby girl. We'll get through it, but we will never forget the amazing dog she was. We loved her with our whole hearts and are happy that she is no longer suffering.
Thank you Mollie Mae for all the great memories and love that you gave so freely to us. We love you and will miss you very much. If dogs do go to heaven...I hope they have an endless supply of chicken treats for you up there.
Lots of love from Mom and Daddy (she was defiantly a Daddy's girl).