Molly the Dog

Puke, Pee, and Poop

You should see me in the mornings. I get out of bed, fan my hand blindly over my bedside table to find my glasses (heaven help me when I knock them off – the task of finding them just got harder by ten fold – I swear God gets a good laugh out of it) and stab them onto my face, grab my land-mind detector device (my phone in flashlight mode), and proceed down the hallway and into the kitchen very slowly swinging the LMDD from side to side, lighting up the floor in splotches until I reach the kitchen light switch. Once there I can take a deep breath and wipe the nervous sweat from my brow.

But even with the use of a LMDD, there are still unfortunate times when I step in pee puddles. I know they’re there, I just don’t know where, though they are placed in strategic high traffic unavoidable places. You would be surprised how hard these land-minds are to find, blending in to the terrain as they do. You must be right on top of them to see them, and by that time it’s usually too late – you have a soaked sock (shame on you if it’s a two soaker – you shouldn’t be moving that fast). I cleaned up 3 pee puddles already today – and it’s not even 9am.

We’re at the point on Molly’s life where we have to start thinking about when. When do we give her her last meal? Sometimes I’d like to take her out back with gun.

Seriously though – when do you know it’s time? She must have arthritis – she has a stiff and slow walk many times. But she’s still walking. Heck, on her good days she goes off to visit our neighbors. Unfortunately she returns. She is practically blind and deaf. She has acid reflux and dementia. I just wish I’d wake up one morning and shine my Land Mind Detector Device on her still body, knowing she settled the question on her own.

Molly-the-dog is feeling her 14.5 years.

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8 thoughts on “Puke, Pee, and Poop

  1. Awww, I know that is a hard question. We’ve been there, done that. Right in the middle of my mom’s end-stage of cancer. Fun times, they were not. It’s hard to not feel guilty… like I’m trying to make life easier for ME, not my dog. When she no longer wagged her tail when we’d come down in the morning {she no longer could climb steps to sleep in our room} and had to be carried down the stairs outside to do her business, we knew it was time. She wasn’t participating much on this earth, and couldn’t be getting much out of just waiting. Neither of us could do it {see above} and so the hubs called his brothers. It took two. One to bring by the “last milk bone” and the other for the drive… windows down, road trip music blasting. It was as hard for them too, because we all loved our Abbie the Labbie.
    It’s hard to know when. It would be hard for me to deal with all the pee {not that puke and poop are any funner}. I believe quality of life on both sides of the equation are valid points. Praying for you as you make this journey, for however long it takes. Losing a pet is losing a member of your family. Blessings to all of you. 😦

    1. Heart breaking, Abbie the Labbie! What a sweet goodbye. You put into words the thoughts I’ve been tossing around in my head. I can’t go through with it until she is more than ready – and she still wags her tail and has good days. The guilt of the responsibility to decide!

  2. Bless your heart and Molly’s too! My suggestion would be for you to adopt a pair of Crocs or some other waterproof footwear as part of your morning uniform, while you face this formidable season. It’s so hard what your going through. This too shall pass and someday in the future
    you will have drier, spot free days.

    I continue to always enjoy your sharing of your life with us. Loved your LMDD! Your creativity makes me smile!

  3. Did you deliberately use land mind instead of land mine? Just wondering? I love reading your stories too! That picture of MOLLY & TINY in her bed is really dear too! You will know when that time comes, don’t worry. She is an amazing dog that’s for sure!

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