I’ve wanted a dog since I could talk, that’s what my parents always say. I knew everything about every kind of dog. I had giant books filled with facts that I’d read every night before I’d go to bed. All I could think about was a dog.
When I was 10, my dream came true. I’d finally worn my parents down. “We’re only going to look at the puppies Hannah, we will not be making any decisions.”, my mother warned as we hopped in the car on a Sunday afternoon. However, once we peeked over the gates and gazed upon thirteen Golden Retriever and Yellow Labrador mixed puppies, we became attached. The owners plucked a puppy out of the pile, placed it in my arms and in that moment we created a bond I’ve never felt with another living being. I named her after my American Girl, Molly. And we left with a free, tiny, shaking puppy. We winged it.
This is Molly May. She has many aliases, purposes and moods. Molly was brought into our family at a time of extreme change. It was amidst my parent’s divorce. Molly became my best friend. I’d run home to play with her, walk her and train her. She was and is a constant in my life. Of course, there were times when she ate socks or I came home to a destroyed tennis ball or the occasional accident on my mother's french carpets. But nonetheless we have grown together and evolved over the past eleven years. Molly can throw shade better than me at times. She’s sassy and truly has a personality of her own. She lays in bed like a human with her head on a pillow. If you're gone longer than a day, Molly will ignore you. She has abandonment issues, what can I say. However, she absolutely adores visitors, she'll never leave you alone.
Molly has many fears. She doesn't like water, snowmen, sprinklers, the noise that leaves make under your feet in the fall or suitcases. She hates goodbyes.
Molly is always there. She explodes with excitement when I come home from school, she rides with me in the car when I run errands and she’ll waste all day in bed with me. She never asks questions. She laid by my bedside all week after I got my wisdom teeth out. She doesn’t want anything but attention. Molly loves love! She's a hopeless romantic, she'll also do almost anything for a piece of cheese.
Having a childhood dog teaches you so many lessons. You learn to care for other beings, how to be responsible and the power of nurture. Dogs never let you down, they never turn their back on you. There's always someone laying by your feet at dinner and someone to wipe your tears when you cry. Molly is also very territorial when I have friends sleep over she'll hop in bed between us and push them out of the bed.
Although she needs help up into my bed these days, and can’t really jump up to catch a ball anymore, she is still my Molly. She is always my happiest hello and my hardest goodbye. Your first dog is a lot like a lot of "firsts" in your life. The relationship may be seen as a trial run. Something you'll reflect on and grow from. But what's unlike my first boyfriend, best friend or my sense of style for the homecoming dance (yikes that was rough), I will always try to make every relationship I have with an animal as good as the one I have with Ms. Molly Moo. The only trouble is, I'm not sure if it'll ever be as great. Your first dog has a giant part of your soul, and for the rest of the days we will spend with our heads out the window of a car or throwing the tennis ball at the garage door, I will hug Molly every night, and tell her how much I love her. Because a dog is loyal. Molly is my favorite. I will love her forever, I will love her for always. As long as I'm alive, my baby she'll be.
