Molly is old. She is 18. She is crooked. She has a 'hang-dog' look about her. I look at her and I see all the years of running and jumping and catching and barking and sleeping. All those years are bundled up inside of her decrepit body and I want to pick her up and squeeze her and say, "Good dog, you are a good dog." But I can't because she doesn't like anyone to touch her too much these days. She wants to be left alone. Just give her treats, a full bowl of food, a full bowl of water and a cushy bed and she is content.
Our vet says she is a trouper. She has Addison's disease now, when the kidneys make too much cortisone. Causes her to have tumors all over her body. She has a few. Not many. It's the one's we can't see that are more troublesome. Molly had a seizure in July. At first I thought she was dreaming but then realized her body was convulsing and she was seizing. When it ended, she shook herself and walked to her water bowl, where she took a good long drink. The next day she was running up the lawn, smelling her way along the sidewalk, all the usual doggie behaviors.
Then she started to have 'accidents' in the house. For a dog that NEVER went in the house, this was unusual. Back to the vet. He said she is old, and the old can become incontinent. Dogs as well as people. They can't help it. Well, I'm glad we have a large tiled eat-in-kitchen and hallway. She is confined to that area now, which is where we spend most all of our time as a family so she always has company.
She had another seizure two days ago. For the rest of the day she slept. When she got up to go outside she looked as if she was listing to the right. Looks like this seizure business is taking it's toll. I don't know. We have no idea if she is having these episodes while we are at work and school. Most likely.
The King put the question out on the table, literally, while we were having dinner last night. "Do you think we should have her put down?" "NO!" was the emotional response from the Queen & her court. We are all praying that she crosses to the Great Dog Park while she sleeps, peacefully escorted by Princess, Mitzi and Shanna - the faithful old dogs of our youth.
Frankly, none of us, adults all, could bear to do such a thing.
Well, maybe the King could. He would be the only one that could. The rest of us couldn't bear it.
But, for now, we enjoy her stares, as she has taken to staring at us while we eat. If she thinks we have a morsel of food, she is by our side. The way she scrounges, one would think she is never fed, but in fact she is fed frequently throughout the day. And treats! Goodness, every time she looks at the king with those old, weepy eyes, he feeds her a treat. You would think she would be roly-poly but is quite thin and almost scrawny looking. She used to be so robust looking. Healthy and vital. Now she is old and tired.
Poor old Molly. Good, good dog.
poor doggie... The king and the princess were in cahoots and draped the lights around Molly, put the antlers on her head and laughed and laughed. I approached the scene with a laugh nearly bursting from my lips, but the words that came out were, "Oh, poor Molly! Why do you torment her? Get that off of her! Poor girl!" Then... "WAIT! Let me get the camera!"
