Losing a Furry Sister

My Halloween wasn't quite the same this year. The afternoon of the 31st my dad called and said our dog, Molly, had to be put to sleep that morning. Apparently, the night before he found her in the field and she was paralyzed because she had had a stroke. She was 7 or 8, so it was kind of sudden and I was taken aback. Mom was pretty upset, so I decided I would surprise her by coming home.

Honestly, it was weird coming home and not hearing little paw taps on the floor or her anxious whines when I opened the door. I kept forgetting she wasn't there and I always expected to find her curled on the rug in my room, one of her favorite places to be. At dinner, after I had pulled the mushrooms off my pizza, I realized I had no little moocher under the table to slide them to. My little dog was really gone. I never thought it would hit me so hard.. it's a dog, right? Get over it. But she became a part of the family.. unsociable as she was... she loved us. And yes, I grudgingly loved her.

On Halloween night I went outside to the little grave my parents had made for her by the bushes. I was surprised to feel so emotional for an animal. Molly hadn't been my favorite dog.. Scruffy (the little mutt who I grew up with since I was one) was my love. But Molly did fill in the holes that were broken when Scruffy passed away. Molly was a beautiful dog that made my mom and dad extremely content when my brother and I left home. She was their 3rd child. And as mom would repeat.. "My sister". My grandma loved her so much, she made a special trip to Wendy's to get her chicken nuggets. Molly was a fat dog.

As I stared down at the little grave that was outlined by the moonlight I felt silly to be crying. But, your pets become a part of the family, the old rumor goes. I suppose she was, as much as I tried to hide it.