Molly Therapy

MOLLY’S MIRACLE

On July 2, 1995 tragedy struck our family. My dear father in law was struck down by a brain aneurysm. He ended up in the hospital, laying in bed with a breathing tube in his throat, unable to do much more than wink an eye and occasionally squeeze your hand. If that wasn’t bad enough, a couple of weeks later, it happened again. Dad’s body was fine, but his brain for all we knew was pretty much gone. We tried everything we could think of to try and get any sort of a response from him, and there just was none. The Doctors told us that we could never know about these things. We must talk to him and treat him as if he could hear us, just in case he actually could.

Molly was born the day after Dad was struck down, on July 3rd. I found myself running back between visits with Dad, and taking care of my new litter. As the weeks went by, making any connection with Dad seemed more and more hopeless to me and my family. He was out of the hospital after a few weeks and into a nursing home.

Molly was growing into a sweet, bouncy little girl. She reached her 6th week birthday, and I decided to take her with me to go see Dad. She could use the socialization, and it’s such a great time to leash break a puppy with the long hallways to walk her. Molly never let anyone pass by at the nursing home without going up to say “hi” and I thought her little nub would wag right off her fanny. It seemed like forever to actually get to Dad’s room. The nurses stopped us to pet her, and then asked if she could go over and see this and that patient because they were dog lovers, and would love the visit.

We finally reached Dad’s room. So sad, no response from him. He just laid there with his eyes open, looking at nothing. We talked to him, and told him how our day went, and who the Cleveland Indians were playing, and how the game went the night before. We had no idea if any of this was registering with him.

I had this idea to put Molly up on his chest. I didn’t think it would do any harm. Molly saw this face so close, she crawled up to his face, and started kissing him. She worked her way around to his neck and then his ear (what’s with dogs and ear cleaning, anyway?). Then it happened. Dad smiled. He drew his shoulder up to his ear and she was tickling him! His smile got broader and broader, and his eyes got wider and wider. Steve and I looked at each other in amazement. His first response. The Doctors couldn’t get him to do anything, and Molly got him to smile. Can you beat that?

Then I got an idea to test this a little further. I put Molly on his stomach, then I picked Dad’s hand up and placed it on Molly. I told Dad I had to leave for a minute, and hold onto Molly so she wouldn’t fall. The next thing that happened was nothing short of a miracle. Dad raised his other hand and held Molly with both hands now. Of course I really wasn’t going to leave the bedside, but I could have. Dad had such a strong grip on that dog, she couldn’t budge. Steve and I couldn’t believe it. Molly had let us know that Dad may not be able to move well, or show emotion, or move his eyes, but he was there! He really was there! He understood all our hours of one way conversations. Steve and I had tears welling up in our eyes at this revelation.

We ended our visit, and hurried home to tell the family our discovery. Dates were made to meet at Dad’s room with Molly to see his reactions to her. It was the last reactions we ever got from Dad, but the family saw this wonderful man who made the world laugh, smile one last time.

I personally will never be able to repay Molly for what she did that summer. I did however, promise her the best life she could ever imagine, and that she would never leave my home. She’s laying by my side as I write, “Daddy’s Girl”.

Thank you Molly. I love you.