This afternoon my black cocker spaniel, Molly, was hit by a car out by our mailbox and killed. The driver of the car didn't even stop. Out here in the country, we have so little traffic out on our gravel road, but this car was really flying.
I miss my little companion. She always followed me around the house until I sat down (even when her arthritis was acting up and it was hard for her to stand), and then she would lie down at my feet. When I was homeschooling at the dining room table, she was at my feet. When I would sit on the couch, she would hop up and lie down beside me. Whenever I went outside in the morning and evening to take care of the chickens, she accompanied me. I felt safer when she was with me, because I knew she would alert me if anything was amiss.
She loved the farm. When Jay was outside working in the garden this summer, she was with him. She loved to chase the barn swallows when they dipped down to catch the bugs that were near the ground. She would chase them for hours! She never chased the chickens, though. Somehow she knew that those were off limits. She loved being outside if either Jay or I were out with her. When we came in, she wanted to be inside too.
Molly loved us unconditionally and was a faithful companion. As I sit here at the table tapping away on my laptop, the area beside my feet where she would be lying now, seems too empty. I am thankful for all of the animals that God has made. And, I am glad that I had 8 years with my little "cockeral spanish girl" called Molly.
1 comment:
Just an update: At about 11:30 pm that same night, a young man stopped by our house and apologized for hitting our dog. He said he had been late for work and couldn't stop because he was afraid he would get fired. We could tell he was sorry: he was close to tears. We appreciate the fact that he came back to apologize to us. It doesn't bring her back, but at least we know why he didn't stop.
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