sadBut last night she began struggling to breathe and we could not get her comfortable. We rushed her to the vet (who came in specially at half past midnight, poor man). He thought at first that an emergency operation might be worth a try - which was a terrible dilemma, as I had made up my mind that I didn't want to put her through yet another major surgical procedure. But in the end she went downhill too fast. I and
philmophlegm were both there to hold her and rub her ears as she was euthanased. Molly was supposed to be my dog, but as soon as she came home she decided
philmophlegm was wonderful and she was always convinced she was his dog really - so I'm really glad things worked out that he was here at the end, and feel very lucky that he is the kind of person to understand why that's important. 
I can't tell you how much I loved this dog. There are some people who think that if you love an animal so much, you somehow waste the emotion, as if you only get so much love in a bucket doled out by order, and have to eke it out. I think caring is something that it helps to practice, myself, though the heartbreak is terrible today, the memories are still worth it.
And she was so beautiful. Even sleeping weirdly upside down on the top of the stairs with her head on the next step down. And loud, and silly and opinionated and greedy and friendly.
I feel so lucky to have known her.
I feel so lucky to have known her.
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