Noel calls her, “Molly the Dog.”
Not “Molly Our Dog”, showing affection and possession. Not even a cute title such as, “Molly Dog”. It’s Molly the Dog. Lifeless, non-personal, cold. It’s a title that can’t even be claimed as practical, for we know no other Mollies.
Noel is also waiting for the dog to die. For reasons all her own. Unlike I, who can’t wait to purchase new bedding, Noel would like a puppy. A fluffy puppy such as a Pomeranian. She also likes pit bulls and chihuahuas. And cats.
Molly is that other family member. This family’s first pet. She’s survived the longest, outliving 2 rabbits. I’ve come to the realization that I’m not much of a dog person. Or a rabbit person. Or fish person. I think hermit crabs are creepy and snakes useless (sorry Sista), fish die too quickly (this could be a plus actually), and turtles stink when they’re unhappy. Yeah, it’s pretty safe to say, I’m not a pet person. I have kids. That’s plenty. They make enough mess and require more attention than I can possibly give. My kids are my pets I guess. I wish they were a little more quiet though, more like fish. That’s what happens when pets have voices and cognizant thought.
We had different pets growing up. My brother, Dan, had a golden retriever named Bogie (I named him). Luke, my other brother, had a hamster named … (Luke, what was her name?). That thing took up residence inside our sofa for weeks. She was nasty. I’m not sure if she was a boy or a girl, but I figure only a girl can be as nasty as she was. Thom, the last brother, had a rabbit which committed suicide. Twice Misty tried, (we found her before she could die from asphyxiation from hanging). I can’t quite remember what finally did her in. She was gothic and spiritual. Thom could send her into a trance and lay her on her back. It freaked me out a bit. I was relieved when she was finally successful. My parents never gave me a pet. Why mom? Didn’t my sweetness scream “pet-lover”? It was a good friend in high school who gave me Sam. My turtle. He is the reason why I know turtles stink when they’re unhappy. Ironically, Sam, a turtle, ran away from me. I think he hooked up with our neighbor’s turtle who disappeared around the same time as Sam. I will never know. I hope he’s happy though.
Why haven’t I written more on Molly the Dog? She isn’t real inspiring, that’s why. Quite frankly, I try to forget her. Every once-in-a-while, I feel this twinge of compassion towards her. But it’s the kind of compassion that is elicited by guilt. Like when I see pathetic things and I feel sad for them, but I’m too lazy and heartless to have any motivation to help.
I’m going to share with you my plans regarding Molly. (the Dog). No! I’m not going to kill her! Though I have considered it to be, perhaps, the most practical solution when her time comes. Heaven knows Jason won’t be able to do the deed and I really don’t want to pay the vet. I wonder if my boss (the podiatrist) would have a special concoction I could inject? Anyway, my thoughts are wondering. Back to the topic please. I have purchased a grooming kit. Yes! I’m going to beautify my dog. She really needs it. That picture above is not recent. She is so grown out and pitiful – the guilt inside me is almost exploding. I need to act. Tonight I will wash her. Tomorrow I will make her beautiful. Stay tuned for the commentary and pictures.