A description of Molly must start with some history of our time with her. She is what my husband calls our “Rent a Dog”.  For five years now Molly has been our informal greeter as we ascend Star Mountain Drive to our cabin. She rushes from her house three doors down the mountain and beats us to the front porch of our cabin every time. Of course she does. She’s a black lab mix who lives with a kind gentleman who answers her barks and scratches at the door by allowing her to expend some of her endless energy and scutter down to the Froeba cabin. There she waits patiently for a run, a walk, and some serious tummy scratches. With us she fills her need to pounce into every water hole and running stream. Her place is on our front steps, though she enters at will and tries with all her might to sit still on our deck or gazebo waiting for half-time during college football season to coax us into a standing position.  It never works. She lasts at most 3 minutes before her cold nose is edging you out of your seat toward the walking stick and hiking boots.

Nothing but true canine love will send a person outside when the temperature is hovering at 35 degrees and the wind chill is well past ridiculous. That doesn’t stop Molly from batting her tail by our bedroom window at around 5 o’clock in the morning, barking incessantly at imaginary predators. To give her credit, she only does this the first morning we’re there. Then she settles down and allows us to sleep in til half past 6.  We hit the road on Star Mountain and never cease to be amazed at how many times she can scale the sides of a hill and stay ahead of us during the 3-4 mile hike we take down to the valley. She has absolutely no car sense, so guiding her out of the middle of the road has been a long teaching process. Even though she’s had to succumb to wearing a leash as of late, she never complains but heels beautifully for a country dog who has never been restrained.

Now comes the hard part. Molly has cancer. I’ve said it. She was diagnosed over two weeks ago and she’s already lost considerable weight, another five pounds in the last seven days.  Her owner took her to the Veterinary Clinic at UGA in Athens, GA when he noticed a sore that wasn’t healing on her back leg. After several biopsies, they found cancer inside her body cavitiy as well as in the external spots that were so obvious. The doctors said she only has a few months to live.  From what I’ve seen this weekend, she won’t be here in a few weeks when we return. Though we couldn’t discourage her from walking with us, her enthusiasm and bounce were gone. She was so exhausted after the first five minutes, that she lay down in the middle of the road. I sat with her crying and rubbing her back and neck, anything to make me feel better for her. When she refused to eat smoked turkey but sat with her head on her paws trying to lick her wounds, I poured milk into her bowl and watched as she lapped up the cold liquid and thanked me with her eyes. Her blood left patterns on the wood porch and reminded me that even though the vet continued to say the sores would heal, the cancer inside was still ravaging her body.

We will miss this precious dog, who never asked for anything but to walk with us. She accepted every family member and friend who visited, never displaying a moment’s worth of possessiveness or impatience, even when one of the grandchildren would pull her tail or step on her paw.  The memory of her boundless energy will linger as we slow down our gate and try to be the kind of neighbor she was, without the added part (Mulitple Meal Molly) of grazing at each doorstep for treats. What a great role model she has been to all of us on Star Mountain, to love our neighbors unconditionally!