A few weeks ago I realized that Molly was almost at the 6-month mark. 6 months, half a year, since that day I sat in one of the fabric covered chairs in the lobby of the hospital where I work and heard my veterinarian tell me that my good dog was positive beyond a shadow of doubt for lymphoma. That he was shocked, that he truly did not expect this out come. I heard him run through our options, I heard his words in a blur.
My world turned upside down, but it slowly turned right side up again. We had a nasty result on those first two tests but further testing: the x-ray, the ultrasound, the repeat biopsy all ruled in Molly's favor. No organ metastatis. Low Grade (Indolent), there is a beautiful label to have plastered on your dog. Thanks to that label, today my dog Molly and I went and visited the new dog bakery local to us. She got to sniff the wall of smoked bones, bark at a fat lab, sample treats and get petted by the bakery owner.
I remember when Molly was young. There used to be a dog bakery in town, within walking distance of our house. I used to walk her all of the time then, trying to burn that furious energy off of her with miles and miles of walks. And that bakery, we would visit and they let me take Molly's leash off. She would race around the bakery, they would give her free treats and the husband and baker would laugh while she did her famous five foot high flying air kisses in his face.
Now she is not so young, her face is white and her health could have been kinder. But she's still here, she's still hungry and still a force of nature. She still jumped nearly five foot high to get up to the free tidbit handed to her from behind the counter.
I love you, Unsinkable Molly - thank you for these 6 months and may we have many, many more.
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