They say angels roam the earth. I believe it, especially after meeting Molly. She was my first taste of responsibility. I was no longer able to run amok, and be away from home for hours, days on end. I had to pay attention to my new pal. After a while, I didn't want to be separated from her. Molly and I would explore the crevices of Williamsburg and Greenpoint. Fire trucks could roar by, music blasting etc and Molly was never phased. Like me, she doesn't like the heat, so it was a mutual decision to stay indoors on those ridiculous days when the humidity is as thick as bread. Like me, she loves the rain, until it would bust out into torrential showers, which would then make her bolt, pulling me with her leash. I ran, too. By the time we would get home, we would be sopping wet. I'd dry her off then myself, and we would hang out on the couch together, occasionally fall asleep... This month will be ten years since we found each other.
There are countless Molly stories, and right now, they're all rising to the top. She hasn't been feeling well for the past week. I got her an appointment with a vet that has stellar reviews on Yelp. Whenever Molly sees the veterinarian office, she tries to walk the other way, hoping that I will simply go along with her and forget about taking her in. This time, she got out of the car, and walked straight to the vet's office door without her leash.
I know that everyone says their dog is smart-special-amazing, and they all are. No doubt. But Molly is very intelligent. She's the Doogie Howser of dogs. I won't put anything past her. It would be of no surprise to me if she started talking and cooking breakfast tomorrow morning. She reads intentions, too. I once thought of placing her paw in an ink pad so that I could put a print on a card that I was sending to my mom for Mother's Day. I hadn't even found the ink pad when I noticed her looking at me quite suspiciously. Then she started barking at me, got up and went to the other end of the room, keeping an eye on me. I have no idea how she knew what I was thinking about doing. I didn't go through with it. She wasn't going to let it happen.
She is sharp, which makes it even harder to see her hips get weak, or have her get sick because she KNOWS. She got an abscess on her neck (the reason why we were going in the first place) and the vet discovered a few questionable lumps on her body. This doctor was thorough and good. Molly got aspirated in 5 places, she had a blood test for possible Cushing's syndrome and/or hypothyroidism. Before we could get her on medicine for her hips, we need to know what's going on to determine the medication type. She had the tennis ball sized abscess area shaved and cleaned. Finally, they gave her a bath with medicated shampoo and a leave in conditioner for the hot spots that she'd developed all over her body. She'd had her ears flushed and anal glands taken care of. Man! 4 hours of pure hell for my pal. They told me that I could go home while all this was being done, but I couldn't leave her. I went for a long walk. I had a moment when I broke down. Then I called my friend T.
There are people who just get it, and she's one of them. I'm sure that we've known each other before. We were hanging out on a cloud in the late 60's discussing the life that we were each assigned and then agreed to meet in San Francisco in 2005. The way we met and the circumstances leading up to it and the others that were also sitting up on the same cloud with us around the same time is nothing short of divine intervention. There is no other explanation. For the naysayers who feel like challenging or antagonizing me on this topic, "fuck you. I know what I know. I can feel my soul sing when I meet my kindred spirits, and this IS what it is." I've met quite a few members of my soul family, including Molly. I'm lucky. These people are proof of heaven. T is proof of heaven. I see a million years in her eyes. It grounds me. The spinning stops in the midst of chaos, and suddenly I have perspective. I'm grateful for the conversation with T. I was able to speak, but at first, in fractured sentences, and she knew what I was saying. She followed me the whole time. The synchronization remained in tact.
Before I walked back into the office, I took a deep breath, and pictured one of my favorite Molly memories. We were at Wreck Beach in Vancouver (clothing optional-I opt to be clothed). Molly loves the beach. She went into the water and started swimming. I watched her paddling around for at least 15 minutes. I was near her. I could hear her breathing. The water was calm. I could see the water occasionally splash when her paw went up high and above the water. Zen state. My brindle doggy feeling life in all of its glory-the epitome of how good it all can be. Watching her was nearly as enjoyable as her swimming about. I went to the shore, sat on the sand and kept watching Molly swim around, occasionally going far but then coming close again as the sky began to change colors on a beautiful, dusky, August evening. Molly was facing me, swimming in place when a seal popped it's head up right next to her. Game over! Molly took one look at the seal then started paddling towards me, back to shore and safe from, what she must have perceived as, the loch ness monster. I remember laughing. Molly shook herself off then looked to me then back at the ocean in disbelief.
I opened the door and made up my mind that, no matter what, Molly and I are going to fight. Regardless of the results, we will face it together, as we have faced everything else. Right now, I have to believe that she will be okay. Right now, I have to stay in the moment and be with her NOW because there's only NOW.
Today she seems better-tired, but that's understandable. She came around to get her cut of tonight's dinner. Sometimes I indulge her, and tonight I deboned a drum stick especially for her. She gave me that Molly smile. I know now that I have to cast out all fear, and face life head on with love. My love for Molly...powerful, a sunrise to light up the darkest streets, an exhilarating swim in the Georgia Strait at Wreck Beach, and the seal that startled-not dangerous-just a wake up call-a notification reminding us that the unexpected pops up, and we have the option to panic and drown or swim to shore. Molly swam to shore. That's what I'm doing now. It's a seal, not a flesh eating monster. Molly knows, and we're going to be okay. Love never dies, and Molly is love. This angel is not done roaming the earth...
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