This July 4th will mark your 15th birthday, baby. I hope they have a big bash for you and all of the other furbabies that share this special day. I most certainly will be thinking about you.
Molly came into my life as a very sick 6 week old kitten in August of 1982. We determined her birthday to be July 4th, so I named her "Molly" in honor of "Molly Pitcher", the heroine of the Revolutionary War Battle of Monmouth. I was and am interested in anything to do with the Bicentennial.
Over the next months, she grew and bonded with me and with Jenny (my 8 month old tortie/tabby). Eventually she outgrew her stomach problems - thank the Lord.
She was a gray and black tabby with the biggest, most beautiful green eyes you've ever seen. When she was excited, playing or scared, her eyes would be almost completely black. She had a very special personality and liked everyone. Just as everyone that knew her liked her very much.
Molly had many funny little things that she did. From chasing her tail in the bathtub and making all kinds of noise to persistently trying to pull the kitchen cabinet doors open (and banging them) to coming up and tapping the top of the "Pounce" can when she wanted some of them to always wanting to get in my lap when I was trying to do paperwork or crafts. She loved Christmas, especially getting into all of the boxes when I was getting the tree and decorations out to put them up.
Molly and I grew very close over the years. We had a routine of things that we did together every day, she always slept with me and she always made me laugh...especially when I needed to.
Molly and Jenny were also close. They often slept together in a chair or on the sofa, and, of course, they invented all kinds of mischief and games together.
Then, in January of 1994, Molly suddenly stopped doing her usual things, we went to the vet and he discovered that she had an intestinal tumor. I was devastated even though the vet told me it possibly could turn out to be non-malignant, or even if it was malignant, it could be treatable. She had surgery the next day to remove the tumor, and things looked pretty good. When I went to visit Molly at the hospital, she would come out of her room and walk around with her little IV in her arm. When I came to pick her up Friday, I was told that the pathology lab had called with the news that the tumor was malignant, but the vet said that he still expected her to recover. The following Sunday, I had to rush Molly to the emergency veterinary clinic after she collapsed. They put her back on an IV and Monday she went back to the regular Veterinary hospital to stay until Wednesday. This time when I took her home, she acted very much like herself. She was eating and drinking alot of water. Then the next Saturday I spoke with the vet and he had gotten the written report from the pathology lab. The news was decimating. The cancer was already wide-spread. The doctor told me to enjoy her as much as I could, but that eventually I would have to have her put down. Over the next 7 weeks, she sometimes did well, but it got to where she wasn't having any good days anymore. She wasn't eating or drinking and she had lost control of her kidneys. Her final night she was too weak to jump up on the bed, so I picked her up and put her on it. She layed on my lap for awhile, then got up and just sat and looked at me as if to say that it was time for her to go. Then she crawled under the bedspread where she slept for the rest of the night with me holding her little paw. The following day (Monday, March 21, 1994) I spoke with my mother and she said she would take Molly in to the vet as I just couldn't do it. I went along, but stayed in the car. So that day, I lost my precious little Molly, leaving me with a horrible emptiness and totally devastated.
Even now 3 years later, I still miss her deeply.
Molly, I know that you and Binky will be there at Rainbow Bridge when I come to get you.
Happy Birthday, Molly. I love you and miss you very much.
Love mom (Carolyn) and Jenny