16 February 2004
Sad news to report. Molly the Spaniel was put to sleep this morning. She had had a lump removed from her breast about a month ago but over the weekend had been very sick. This morning she had a fit and Mary decided that Molly had suffered enough.
No more bad hair days for Molly the Spaniel.
The above appeared on Zoe’s blog when Molly died.
This is how it began. One thundery afternoon In August 2003 Bert and I were outside cooking a barbie under the beech trees. There was an ernomous crash of thunder and then this terrified spaniel appeared from the direction of the fields. Our back door was open and she ran straight in. I followed. She was really pleased to be indoors. She was shaggy and unkempt and looked as if she'd been outside for a while. She accepted food and water. She turned out to be very friendly and got on well with our two dogs.
I did try to find an owner. I called at various houses in the area and contacted the dog warden. I checked the paper and the notice boards in the village. I had planned to make a poster but decided not to in case someone claimed her who did not actually own her. In less than a week I had bonded with this dog and she in turn followed me everywhere. The warden told me that if she wasn't claimed within a week of being reported all I had to do to make her mine was buy a dog licence. Which I did.
She came on heat soon after joining us and turned out to be an awful tart. Our ancient dog Danny (16) took on a new lease of life and nearly wrecked himself trying to make babies with her. Fortunately nothing happened as Danny was unable to maintain wood. He had a lot of fun trying. We got Molly spayed.
I've wondered since if this was wise because the vet said she was very old, possibly 11 or 12. But nevertheless the vet did the op and all was well until Christmas when Molly started to get very frail. She was still following me around and doing her snarfling thing but she seemed to be dragging herself around. The vet said she had breast cancer. Once again she had surgery. And improved but only for a few weeks. I've often wondered if that operation was a good idea. Or did it cause her unneccessary suffering? Might it have been best for her to have been put to sleep then? Perhaps sentimentality played a part for me and maybe it was profit that motivated the vet to advise an operation. I don't know. A month later we had to have her put to sleep. She is buried in a beautiful part of the garden at our new house.
I will never forget her.