A loving tribute to Molly and Maisy

To Molly, The One Who Taught Me How To Fiercely Love

Molly was the easy puppy we all hoped to get.  A calm, loving black bear cub.  Never chewed up anything and never peed in the house.  Her nickname was "sneaky" because she so quietly followed me everywhere just to be near her human.  The term "Lazy," came up early in our lives together, but she simply chose to conserve her energy for when it truly mattered such as for deer, rabbits, or squirrel ( or a chip hit the floor).  I certainly did not care that she failed a fancy hunting test and was given away as a "dud."  She was the best chips eating, football watching, couch cuddling dog ever known.  She cared more about making sure I was in her sight at all times even during fun trail hikes off leash than anything else.  I am blessed her final 24hrs were amazing. Not because I knew she was about to have a spinal cord stroke, but because this is the life we had.  She went on a business trip with me, head-out-the-window, through the mtns of TN.  Along the way, we stopped to hike in the Smokies and swim in lakes, then we got upgraded at the hotel to a big ole king sized bed which we ate fried chicken in while cuddling at midnight.  The next morning, I asked if she wanted to "go for a walk!" she looked up at me with the biggest smile ever, then  suddenly had a stroke.  I got her to an ER in a strange town and upon learning she would always be paralyzed on her entire left side, I decided to let her go.  When it is my time, I would love to have a final 24 hrs like that,  then a sudden, short stint of pain before dying with my favorite companion by my side looking into my eyes.  How could I not do that for her after all she gave me? 

 To Maisy, The One Who Taught Me How To Fiercely Ask For What I Want

   Maisy was the puppy we all end up with.  She constantly barked at anyone and everyone to play fetch or joyfully run around outside.  She loved everyone and everything (except salamanders and geckos).  She would just as easily get in a car with strangers as with me.  Exuberant and passionate for everything!  The term "bad dog" came up early on in our lives together, butshe taught me that endless passion, strong drive, acute agility and overwhelming zest for life does not mean “bad?”  She asked for what she wanted (play, Woman!!) without apology and literally everyone laughed and loved her for it.  Very late at night, when no one was looking, she would sneak in to cuddle.  Her last night was a fun evening with friends gathered around our porch in which she gave each of them a turn to play with her late into the night.  The next morning, she could not stand up.  She slipped a disc in her lower back which proved painful and inoperable.  She would never run, play, swim or chase a ball again.  When I rolled a ball at her in the ER, and it bounced off her muzzle, the look in her eye told me to let her go.  How could I not do that for her after all she gave me?  

These girls traveled with me overseas for my job to less than ideal locations.  Every time they deplaned, they took one look around and were happy.  We had couches, tennis balls and each other.  Together they taught me that the grass is only as green as we choose it to be on any given day, in any given location.  They always chose happiness.  Don't forget to love, don't forget to play, always ask for what you want, (no matter what because the worthy people will love you for it); and don't be afraid to strive ahead, but always keep the ones you love close by. 

But now, as if to just pile it on, the deer, rabbits, squirrels and salamanders seem to know my girls are gone.  Much to the chagrin of my neighbors, I find myself running, screaming and waving my arms (and laughing) across the backyard to scare them away from my garden.  In the spirit of my girls, I just have to...