We had a wonderful time together.

~ ~ ~

For fifteen blessed years on this earth there lived a wonderful chocolate Labrador Retriever, and her name was Molly.

I was the lucky girl who would have her in my life.

When I was thirteen I wished I had a dog again. Our family's Golden Retriever, Tyler (a gentle old boy), had passed away the year before. Going through life without a furry buddy at home felt like half an existence. As a shy girl mostly lost in my thoughts, I lacked strong connections with people. I was lonely.

"Nothing worth having comes easy." How true that was, trying to persuade my parents we should get a new dog! My brother and I started on a single-minded quest to do just that. It took us many months. We did extra chores, performed well in school, kept on our best behavior, and -- in a written, signed contract we drew up ourselves -- promised we would be good caretakers.

Then one day Mom took us looking. We were so excited. As soon as she agreed, I knew my dog was waiting somewhere out there, somewhere close, soon to be found.

That's when we met Molly.

She was only a few months old. I never saw a puppy like her. She had wolflike orange-rimmed eyes, dewy and gentle, not easily forgotten. Her ears and paws looked too big for the rest of her. Her coat was soft, glossy and dark brown. My heart melted and something clicked.

She was so shy and awkward. She didn't seem to know what to do with herself in the company of two eager kids. She wasn't like other puppies romping around and tumbling over themselves; there really was something different about her. It felt like we were kindred spirits, two bashful creatures in a big, big world.

We took her home and I was head over heels. We were careful not to be too energetic as we knew this was a big change for her. We brought her outside to see the backyard and she burst out of her bubble, running from one family member to the next, playfully nibbling our fingers and jumping into our laps. I knew she had an inner spunk waiting to come out! But when we took her inside, she hid behind the microwave cart and started to cry. This was going to take some time.

I'll never forget that first night. We set up a bed for her in my room. She whimpered and cried, in an unfamiliar place, missing her pack. I was in bed too. I turned over and called out to her, telling her it was all right. It seemed to help just a little. After an hour or so she fell asleep.

Before I dozed I thought: this is it, this is the brand new start. I thought ahead to all the years we'd have together. I tried to wrap my head around everything we could do, all the fun and adventures we could have, all the places we could go.

The future always seems so full when we're young, all the possibilities existing at once before the fateful narrative chooses just one thread of story. I thought of Old Yeller and Travis, of Old Dan, Little Ann and Billy. I hoped our connection would be as meaningful as theirs. A girl and her dog, together always.

In the back of my mind there was a little shadow: I knew our friendship couldn't last forever. I realized that one day, I'd be looking back through memory at that moment. But what did that matter? That night was so well protected from the distant future by all the years we would share in between. For a young girl it seemed so long, and time moved so slowly after all. We might as well have had forever.

There it was, the first day, and Molly had already taught me something -- what it is that's beautiful about every new beginning.

More to follow...

October 18, 2021

Molly,

I can't believe it's been five years.

When I opened the blinds this morning to let in some light, I saw the trees in their autumn gold standing over the empty cornfield past the backyard. This time of year always hits a little differently now, since it reminds me of when we had to say goodbye. It's still the most beautiful time of year, though. We had some nice walks under falling leaves like these.

Molly, I thought I would be able to write all of our story here. That was my original intention, but I don't think I can do it. The memories I have of us, I don't remember where to place anymore. I don't remember where they belong. I can't recall how old we were when certain things happened, or what time of year it might have been -- I don't know where the pieces fit anymore.

But that makes the memories no less precious to me. I hold onto them like little gems. I still remember how we played, and the way your fur feels.

From time to time I see you when I'm dreaming and it's absolutely wonderful. Sometimes you're older, sometimes you're a puppy, but it doesn't matter either way. I feel so happy when you come back to visit. There are usually several other dogs and cats with you -- looks like you've been making lots of friends at the Rainbows Bridge. Or maybe that's your way of telling me to open my heart to a new friend. I promise I will adopt in your memory once I'm able to.

I love you Molly, and you'll be in my heart like always, because you never left it. We will be together again in full some day.

All my Love,

Nicole

~ ~ ~

Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my own familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
- "Death is nothing at all" by Henry Scott Holland

~ ~ ~

You can shed tears that she is gone
or you can smile because she has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back
or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember her and only that she's gone
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back
or you can do what she'd want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
- "She is gone" by David Harkin

June 29, 2025

I was so afraid I had lost this account! I said a little prayer trying to login here and... EVERYTHING IS STILL HERE! I cried so hard. This is just a simple memorial but it's one of the few things left I have to remind me of you. I'm so thankful!!!! :D :D :D And because of this I can tell you how things have been going.

I wish so badly that you could be here right now... you could meet your brothers! Who are Mister Kitty (a.k.a. Luca but I stopped calling him that a long time ago), and Scorch!

Oh Molly; you're probably giving me side-eye, wondering how -- and WHY -- I have become... dun dun dun... a CAT Mom!

I wanted to adopt from the local shelter but found out I could NOT, thanks to my no-good lousy ex never taking his dog to the vet (which I found out later in a surprise call from the shelter staff) when we were trying to adopt together. Because he had no veterinary history for his dog -- which is a huge red flag obviously -- and we applied together, I was also blacklisted from adopting in my own name.

But I wasn't going to lose out just because someone else ruined my first chance. I figured my next best shot was to take in a kitty from someone looking to rehome. "Luca" as a six-month-old kitten after I saw him on a Craigslist ad.

I have his baby pictures and I'll be adding them to an album with YOUR baby pictures too. I can put them in an album but I still have all these pictures, theirs and yours, happily stuck in my mind. I hope they stay there forever. Okay, ranting -- back to Mister Kitty, who at this point in the story was Luca.

Luca's former owners said they raised him in a litter at home, but they couldn't keep him because they were moving in with their cat-allergic in-laws and couldn't take him along. Their family members all turned them down or had too many pets already. I met up with her at a Turkey Hill of all places and we did a swap. Technically he was the best $20 I ever spent, but for the right owner he's priceless, and that's me. :)

His name was Fire Fist, like from the Deadpool movies. His litter mom said her kids named him. I SAID I would keep his name but I couldn't resist picking one for him instead. It was between Orion (like from Men In Black), or Luca. Luca means light-bringer... and that name is all too appropriate for what he and I both went through. That chapter doesn't need to be reopened, but he's my little ray of hope, and he absolutely knows it. ;)

Luca will always be his legal or Christian name (I enjoy saying that) but the choice, ultimately, was never between Orion OR Luca... it was destined to be something else entirely: Mister Kitty. I grew up with South Park and I finally had a cat, so it came naturally when he started doing mischievous things. I loved every time Cartman threw a fit on the show when his cat wanted something it couldn't have. He would tell it no several times and it would keep meowing -- not escalating, just the same persistent meows. Then came the fit of anger, more of the same sad meows, meltdown intensifies, rolling around in his seat not understanding why the cat won't just accept NO for an answer. (Mister Kitty is mostly better behaved than his namesake but also has trouble accepting NO, especially when it's almost, but not quite yet, food time...)

When I got him home, he did not want to come out. At all. It was so much like when I first got you, Molly. Except he was small enough to hide UNDER the furniture and STAY there as long as he liked. His first hiding spots were my nightstand and the dresser. :( Knowing just how skittish he is now, it kills me to think how he must have felt being in a totally new place, with all new everything. I let him hide as long as he liked, and went in quietly sometimes during the day to kneel down and talk softly to him, pet whatever fur I could with just one finger. He never tried to attack me and never made any noises. I swear in the pictures I took of him when he first started hanging out, it looked like he was smiling.

It hasn't been the easiest road together, as I alluded to before, but at this point Mister Kitty knows just how loved he is. Call me crazy but I think he knew I was going through it and he just You and Tyler are the true OGs, but he knows he earned the right to carry that torch.

It's great to have a friend who makes your heart sing every day when they do something -- like give you those big mushy lovebug eyes, or do that funny meow-yawn when they stretch, or get the Happy Tail shakes. And head boops. "We got a Stage 5 booper." And careful lap placements where everything must be just right, and human must not move until cat is happily situated and accepting pets. Wanting to get up to go to the bathroom or get a snack, but Cat has already claimed you as a body pillow, so you just accept Cat now controls when you're allowed to stand up again. I never understood "This is my life now" memes of people with cats on them who couldn't move, until now. Of course you can't just "move." What kind of suggestion is that?

And then, there was Scorch.

I wanted to get a friend for Mister Kitty since I was afraid of leaving him alone if I found a new job. I thought it would be great to get him a sister who would hopefully have a calm presence like him, and if not, then at least it wouldn't be two unrelated boy cats possibly fighting each other for territory and dominance. Turning my apartment into a warzone in time for my return from work.

I wanted to adopt from the local shelter, like I had with Mister Kitty, but since my ex didn't take his dog to the vet and we were on file together, I was put on an adopting no-go list.

Love, Nicole