Molly
My dog died four months ago today.
It was on Valentine's Day. My day was awful enough as it is, which is usually the case when you're single like me. (Okay, not awful, but disappointing) I'm pretty sure I walked home, and I remember what I was wearing. Molly, my dog, in her old age, was prone to peeing on the floor, so we usually left her in the kitchen so, if she did, she wouldn't ruin the furniture or carpet, etc. So I went into the house and opened the kitchen door and saw what I thought at that time was pee. (Okay, so I'm very blunt about all this. But these are the facts.) But as I was walking back into the living room, something inside me just didn't feel right. I walked back into the kitchen, and that's when I realized that what I was looking at was blood.
Of course, by this time, my heart almost stopped. I walked further into the kitchen mumbling "Molly? Molly?" but I didn't see her. But then I found her. Lying in a heap just beneath the bottom step of my back stairs. That's when I started crying. I went to look for something, anything, that I could use to pick her up in, and I found a pair of my sweatpants in a laundry basket in the living room. After trying to wrap her up in them as best I could, I picked her up and carried her over to the other side of my kitchen and laid her down. I ran into the basement to find some old clothes to change into and got a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. Then I went back upstairs just to sit with her.
In case you're not understanding what happened... Molly had cancer, and as a result, she had a tumor on her side. She had had two previous one, which we has removed, but they just kept coming up everywhere. Her tumored had ruptured, I'm guessing as a result of maybe her scratching it, and all the fluids had just come out. And I think that's all you really want to know about that.
I first called my mom at work, but she was in some training class. I then called my dad, but after they said he wasn't there, I realized that he had left work early to bring my grandma to the doctor. So I sat there next to Molly for about an hour and fifteen minutes just petting her, trying to make her feel better. I knew she was going to die. She was so weak, and I could just see that she couldn't take any more. But she kept breathing. Part of me wanted her to just go right then so she wouldn't have to hurt anymore. I know it's horrible.
My dad finally came home. He seemed so calm, and I was hysterical. All he did was go into the basement to get some towels and bring her outside to go to the bathroom. He said to me, "You know what I'm going to do." I said, "Yeah." I kissed her once before he left with her. That was the last time I saw my first dog. My father brought her to the vet to be put to sleep.
My dad made me clean up all the stuff on the kitchen floor after he left. I had to mop up the only thing that was left of my dog.
I went upstairs to get changed into actual clothes since I had to go to play practice that night. I was lying on the couch crying when my mom came home. She told me I didn't have to go play practice but I did anyway. As we left the house to go, my dad was sitting on the front porch steps with the towels.
At play practice, I was a mess. The only person that noticed was Melissa, and then Steve since I was crying in Melissa's arms. And then after we were done, Ed asked me, "Are you okay?" I had told him a fre days earlier that my dog was probably going to die soon. I just didn't think I would actually be that soon.
I took everything I was wearing, the t-shirt (which is, coincidentally, the green one I'm wearing in that first picture), and the pajama pants, and the tank top I was wearing under it. They're all in the back of my closet now. refuse to wear them. I know what you're probably thinking. This girl is getting too upset over her dog. But she was the first dog I ever had. Every memory of having a dog has been her. I don't think anyone understands, because you didn't see what I saw. You didn't see her lying in a puddle of her own fluids. I think that's what makes me really so upset.
Well, I can honestly say that Valentine's Day will never be the same for me. I lost the one thing I loved on the day when you're supposed to find love.