New England Old English Sheepdog Rescue

New England Old English Sheepdog Rescue, Inc.




Molly died today, Febr 1, 1999, at home in my arms with her vet in attendance. She was only 81/2 and her short life ended much too soon. How cute and cuddly she was, that cold, snowy day in Nov 1990, when we brought her home. There is nothing more precious than an Old English Sheepdog puppy. How brilliant we thought she was, housebroken in two days. Little did we know, then, that she was deaf. No wonder she accomplished everything we taught her so quickly; there were no distractions to slow her tutelage


Molly’s first year was difficult. Her new companion, Cassie, couldn’t understand why this untrained ball of fluff couldn’t or wouldn’t listen to her warnings. Consequently, there were some squabbles, some rather brutal. Cassie was hard on her but I had to let them work the issues out on their own. Sometimes, I would sit on the floor and cry with Molly. Somehow, she endured, and, at last, the aggression ended. For the next six years, Cassie never once emitted so much as a growl in her direction! They grew inseparable. 
Molly had a propensity for urinary tract infections (UTI). Later, she developed crystals in her bladder, resulting in additional problems. We changed her food to a prescription diet and all went well for a long while. As she grew older, we started yearly blood panels to make sure things were on track. 

She was a happy girl and so sweet-tempered. She loved long walks, playing in fresh snow and, just as her predecessors, grazing on new grass in the spring. I don’t know why, but our sheepdogs all have had a penchant for spring grass. She also accompanied us to every rendezvous and knew just how to conduct herself. She could become obstinate at times; if she didn’t wish to “listen” to us, she would turn her back so she couldn’t see our gestures. 

Then, one day, she turned away from her food; nothing would entice her. The trip to the vet, along with the necessary blood work, realized our worst fears; total renal failure. There was no recourse; she was dying. The despair we felt was crushing. And WHY didn't the problem show up in the analysis taken just a few months earlier? The light in her eyes dimmed a little more each day as we made her as comfortable as possible. Ultimately the day came to say good-bye.

We love you, Molly, and bless you. And send you reluctantly to your new adventure. We trust it is filled with green fields to play in and that you have all the toys and treats you desire. Above all, we hope that your body is young and healthy again and that you are content. Wait for us, Molly, with Pandi and Cassie at the Rainbow Bridge. We’ll be along soon.