We lost our old dog, Molly, yesterday.
She got sick on Sunday, we found out it was cancer and bad on Monday, and by Wednesday, she was gone.
We made the hardest decision a dog owner can ever have to make. I know that it was the right choice, but my heart just isn’t at the place where it accepts what my mind knows.
And it hurts. And it is going to hurt for a long, long time.
“It was just a dog.”
I’ve heard people say that. I am sure I have been guilty of thinking or saying it from time to time myself.
But I can assure you, from the bottom of my heart, Molly was never just a dog.
No, my Friends, she was so much more.
We brought her home as an engaged couple months before our marriage. She followed us along on our adventures. She moved with us and was there when we welcomed home our four babies. She kept me company when Josh worked night shift for so many years. She sat beside me when I was sick with morning sickness and laid next to me when I lost a baby. She kept watch over our children and was there through it all. She is as much sewn into the fabric of our lives and the pages of our story as we are.
Her loss is one that will hurt for a long time and she’s left a Molly sized hole here.
I don’t know if there is a heaven, but I’d like to believe it’s there. I can only hope it exists and that if I make it, a little black dog with a wild wagging tail is there to meet me.