Molly

Yesterday I had a bit of a meltdown.  I looked at her, sitting at my feet with her same Molly-face, mooching for a bit of my chicken wrap, same Molly-mooch, and when I asked, “Are you mooching?” she gave me that same guilty look that generally has me caving in.  And I ached for her.  Needless to say, she ended up with most of the chicken wrap. 

When she hopped out of the room to see if anyone else had something she could work off them with her “I’m starving here and that food looks like it will stave off the starvation” look, I cried.  I hate that life is not fair.  She is adapting so well that it’s amazing.  But it’s still not fair. 

Today was a vet appointment and I was curious to see how she would react going back to that place,where they put her in that cage and gave her pain and kept her from her family.  As soon as I got her out of the car and she realized where she was, the tail started wagging and she strained to get in to the office.  Everyone came out to see her and she hopped around on her back legs, and rushed up to each of them like they were her long-lost best friends.  To Molly, this place is just one more adventure and road trip stopover … not a place of torture and terror.  One staff member even rushed outside as we were about to get in the car, because she had been busy when we first came in and didn’t want to miss out on seeing her.  The vet, as well, is amazed at her progress … he’s a quiet sort but came right out when we came in, a huge smile on his face.  “It’s hard to believe she just went home three days ago,”  he said. 

They saved her life … I will always remember that.