If I were young, I'd flee this town

So I heard on a phone call home recently that our neighbours dog had died. Small news you might think, but everyone of us that leaves home on a trip ponders before each call what the bad news could be on this occasion.**

For me on one of my more recent calls it was the fact that Molly had passed away. Molly was no ordinary dog, although she was the 'property' of our neighbour she was a pet for everyone who live on our street. From a young age Molly endeared herself, along with her owners, to the inhabitants of Sharon Avenue. Allow me to explain...

Molly, was a cross breed - daughter of a sheepdog and a laborador she was a right-off on the Krufts circuit, but she was meant for greater things. She looked more labrador than anything, with a coat so sleek and so black she looked ten times the pedigree her lineage allowed. I've no idea if the family knew what they were letting themselves in for when the arrived with this bundle of joy undertoe.

Molly would without shame make her way from house to house reeling off her latest tricks. But all that came after she unleashed her intro trick. Dropping a tennis ball at your heels and prompting you to kick it off for her. She would chase that ball with such velour that I to this day wish I held any passion of similar strength. Things progressed and the games grew. Introduction of a tennis racket (later a cumain) and a 200 yard strike were no deterrent. She'd chase that ball till the end of time.

After a day of ball chasing she would do her collection round. Popping by with her latest tricks to wow us and earn a treat. Opening our backdoor was not an obstacle, sitting our kitchen chairs whilst doing the beg wasn't even a challenge. She worked us like a circus audience, not looking for an untoward gain, just innocent demand and supply. We lapped it up..as did all the residents.

I guess where I'm going with this is that Molly, in my mind was a special dog. While her passing has no affect on my current context it is news that deserves reflection. She grew old with pride. Took deafness on the chin and remained a distinct part of our family until the day she last ' called round'.

I'll miss her inquisitive sniff as I exit the car next time I get home.

This story isn't meant to insult or detract from the gravest of news one could receive whilst away from home. Quite honestly, if this is as bad as it gets I can live with the longing for loved ones. But sometimes its good to reflect on the state of affairs, today I'm reflecting on you Molly.

WooF!




**Note: this is possibly an Irish thing! So indulge me!