Our Molly (and Murphy and Hershey)

In my header is Molly, our chocolate Labrador, at eight weeks old, back in 2002. Quite frankly and not at all modestly, I think that is one of the most adorable photos I've ever taken, but not due to my photographic skills. There's simply nothing cuter than a Labrador puppy.  Ken and I tried to put Molly back into the crock a few days later, for another photo shoot, and she'd already grown too large to fit into it! To the left is Molly today, looking older and wiser.

We got little Molly after losing our beloved Murphy, another chocolate Lab. Although our hearts were broken, we quickly found room in our hearts for this new, rambunctious puppy.

We've had three chocolate Labs in all: Hershey, who lived to be only 14 months old and passed away, much to our grief, when we'd put her in a boarding kennel before we left on a three-week trip to Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. What a shock to come home and learn our Hershey had died only a few days after we'd left on the trip. Her death has made leaving our dogs behind when we travel all the more painful.

I've always felt as if we never really got to know Hershey. She traveled to Newfoundland with us the first summer we had her, when she was just a small puppy, and she was a hit with the natives. Many had never seen a chocolate Lab before, which surprised me since Labradors are native to, well, Labrador, and Labrador is next-door to Newfoundland.

Hershey traveled on that trip in the back of our pick-up truck, safely stowed in her kennel. At night in various campgrounds, she'd snuggle into bed with us in our tent camper, because the mosquitoes were relentless to her if she stayed in her kennel at night. It took what seemed like hours for her to finally settle down in bed, preferring to walk on us, bat us with her paws, lick our faces, but she'd eventually tire herself out and sleep all night between Ken and me. We loved little Hershey and thought we'd have her with us for years. The next summer, she died.

Murphy, full name Murphy Brown, was ours for eleven years. What a kind, gentle dog she was. When I'd get home from school in the afternoon and sit down on the cedar chest to put on my walking shoes before we'd go out for our walk, Murph would lay her head in my lap. She was a dear, dear friend. Cancer took her from us in 2002. She's buried in a grave dug by Ken behind our house. (Hershey, however, is buried at our former house.)

And now there's Molly Brown. What a piece of work she is! She doesn't let us do much without first getting her permission, preferrably in writing. We are not allowed to use our front or kitchen doors unless we're taking her outside with us. She takes personal offense when the UPS truck drives by the house, and she declares all-out war if it pulls into our driveway. When she and I are out for our daily walk, she's as sweet as pie to some of the neighbors but barks and growls at others. For the life of me, I can't figure out what criteria she uses to determine if she likes someone or not. She spends most of each day pretty much glued to me: If I go into the kitchen, she follows; if I go into the living room, she follows,...In the evening, when Ken's in his recliner and I'm on the end of the sofa near Ken, Molly tucks herself in at our feet. She likes to be with her people. At the moment, in fact, she's holed-up with me here in my study, sleeping at my feet and snoring a tad loudly. I'm sure if I should type something about her she didn't like, she'd leap to her feet, grab me around the neck, pull me to her so we're nose-to-nose, and demand I delete what I'd just written. That's our Molly.

Now Molly is showing signs of aging. She's almost ten. She hasn't yet had the health battles that Murph had, but her muzzle is quite white and she has slowed down.

I hadn't intended to reminisce about our dogs when I uploaded the photo of Molly-in-the-crock. I'd simply planned to share that photo so you could see what a little doll she was in her pink collar and with her amazing teal-blue eyes. Somehow the memories flooded back. There you have it. And I have a big lump in my throat.

P.S. Since my header photo of 8-week-old Molly has been deleted, I'll add it here: