This collar let me know where she was. She would stand over me on the bed in the mornings when it was time to get up, wagging her tail, her butt, and pretty much her whole body, the tags on her collar serving as the alarm clock to let me know that we were burning daylight and it was time to get up. These tags were the sound of Molly.
[Molly died Friday night/Saturday morning from bloat, due to a bowel obstruction that was undoubtedly something she ate out of a blown over garbage barrel on Friday. Not many people know of this yet because I still can't bring myself to speak of it.]
Molly ran like any dog, but faster than most. She loved to race our boys from the dog yard gate, through the pasture, out to the front fence where they would all bark at the neighbors' dogs across the road. What Molly could do that most dogs can't, is fly. She was originally given up because she couldn't be contained and we soon discovered how true that was. Molly never saw obstacles, only hurdles, and she never met one that she couldn't overcome. Sadly, it was her ability to jump fences at a single bound that led to her demise, because she would leave the safety of the dog yard and/or pasture and get into stuff or go places that she shouldn't,. Perhaps we were fortunate to have kept her from harm as long as we did.
Molly had no interest in being adopted either. She was ok at adoption events, but mostly she was scared, didn't interact much, and just wanted to go home. Molly had enough rottweiler in her to be smart enough to figure out what she wanted and how to get it. When she returned after an unsuccessful adoption attempt she would no longer stay in the kennels with the foster dogs at all. I'm convinced that she had figured out that she needed to live in the house with the other permanent residents if she wanted to stay with us. And that is what happened.
I'll recognize the sound of those tags when I meet her at the Bridge. I will hear her before I see her and she will come bounding over some fence, gate, bushes, or whatever stands between us.
I can only imagine that the Great German Shepherd Dog in charge of the place will be happy and relieved that finally someone has come that she might listen to.
6 comments:
Thanks for sharing this, we are really in one and touched with people who are striving to help rescue these poor animals. May your blog flourish more. Have a blessed day!
I am so sorry to read this sad story. Thanks for posting the wonderful pictures of Molly.
Victoria
Now I know I've got a heart, because it's breaking.
Deepest and sincere condolences for your sudden loss. Rotties pick their people and Molly chose you and Clay. She was truly one of a very special kind.
So very sorry for your loss, Brent. As a friend said when we lost the late, great Axel unexpectedly and much too soon, "Sometimes the good ones get to graduate early."
Oh Brent, I am soooo sorry to hear about the loss of Molly. We lost our first rottie years ago under similar circumstances, and it was devastating. The breed's enthusiasm for wolfing down anything smaller than their head definitely leaves them vulnerable in this way. Rotties I have known have swallowed a wad of aluminum foil, a metal bottle cap, a plastic bag, a pound of macademia nuts, a hand-sized piece of rawhide, an entire leather glove, and a whole corn cob. The life of freedom and adventure that Molly enjoyed is also a more risky life, and I believe that our free- spirited canines understand this choice intuitively and wouldn't have it any other way. RIP, Molly.
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