Molly

Our family was in good spirits having just celebrated Thanksgiving and anticipating the busy holiday season. However, yesterday put a huge damper on our spirits, and taught us a lesson as well as reminding us of how precious life is.

Don't worry, there is a happy ending, but first, the rough stuff.

Molly was out for her daily morning walk, not far from our home, near a river that runs alongside a walking path in the county park, when it happened. The park is heavily wooded, and is an oasis in the middle of suburbia. While playing off leash by the river, my wife was about to clip on the leash to walk Molly home when Molly spotted a deer.

It was a big deer, with antlers. Molly bolted, crossed the shallow river and tore after the deer who was high-tailing it into the woods.

In seconds, Molly was gone. As quickly as she could, Julianne wadded through the cold, ankle deep river and ran in the direction of Molly. Molly had vanished, but Julianne persisted and walked for several miles through the heavily wooded park, while calling for Molly.

Molly was gone. Julianne thought to back track and look again, and while doing so, called my cell phone. I was seconds away from boarding my train to work when I received the terrible call.

I raced to my car and drove home as fast as I could, to help search for Molly.


Over time, we had begun to trust Molly. She never ventures far from us, and so we've become accustomed to letting her play off leash at times.

Lesson 1: Never again.

The weather was cold and cloudy, and the forecast said heavy rain is on the way.

With little time to spare, I went out with Julianne again, searching for Molly.

Nothing. No sign or sound of her.

We were devastated.

We searched for miles, back and forth in the woods, through rough foliage, sticker bushes, and some rocky terrain.

With no luck, we hiked back to our cars and drove along the roads and dead-end streets that run parallel to the park, but to no avail.

We notified the authorities, three police stations, animal control, and the local animal shelter and left them our phone number. This was our greatest hope.

We were desperate to find Molly, and heavy despair and the shock of losing her was overwhelming. Our voices were hoarse from calling Molly's name, and our legs and back were sore from searching. We were exhausted.

After driving around, we headed home. I made flyers and we both headed back again. I handed out flyers to every walker and jogger, and I stapled flyers to trees.

I found it difficult to look at Molly's photo on the flyers, and tears began to well up.

The grief was beginning to overwhelm us, but we were committed to finding our Molly, no matter how exhausted we were.

After traversing the park for dozens of miles, scratched from stickers, completely exhausted, we decided to head back to the car. It was raining, we were wet, hope had faded.

The possibility that our dog was lost, hurt or killed by a deer was now in our thoughts.

We were once looking forward to watching the special show with the lighting of the Rockefeller Christmas tree, but instead we were beginning to mourn our loss.

We didn't want to give up, but reality was pulling us the other way. We were heading back when Julianne's cell phone rang. The battery was nearly depleted, with barely enough power for the call.

"We think someone found your dog!" said the voice.

OMG! HOPE at last! Could it be our dog?

Julianne repeated the phone number out loud to me, of the woman who found a dog, miles away, and brought it home. Her name was Elizabeth. I entered her number into my cell phone and we called it immediately.

"Yes" said the voice, "My daughter picked up this dog that looked lost, and brought her home"

"Brown, with a black muzzle, short legs, approx 35lbs., and a BLUE collar".

Or despair turned to hope, but he BLUE collar threw us. Molly's collar was GREEN.

Could it still be Molly?

It took what seemed like hours to reach the car, and we quickly drove to the address.

The side door openend when our car was spotted, and there was our MOLLY!

We cried with relief, we have Molly back.

Lesson 2: We were reminded of how fragile life can be. In an instant, it can be taken away. We were lucky.

Molly will never be allowed off-leash again, unless she's in a fenced-in, safe area.

That evening, we all sat together, exhausted and bruised, and enjoyed the holiday special on TV.

Happy holidays to all!