Had a terrible day
...with Molly yesterday and was ready to find
her a home out in the country somewhere.
If I can't be kind to her, she does not need to stay
with me.
When I was away for the weekend, she chewed
about a 4 inch piece of wood off the door facing
between the dining room and kitchen. She also
tried to eat the hardwood floors (there are 4-5
places where it is obvious she was chewing
or attempting to chew up the floors).
I guess if I were true dog lover, I would take all of that
in stride, but I try hard to make this old house
look like something I can be proud of, and it costs
some pretty money to fix things she's destroying.
Well, I don't try so hard anymore. I think about all
the things I would do if I was better, but the projects
rarely get off the ground. I got so far as removing
all the pictures and other things from my hallway
walls and the nails. And I even stripped some paper
from one end of the wall, but that's it. With depression
being the norm in my day-to-day, I rarely have
moments in which I feel compelled or motivated
to tackle some new project.
I know I can fill in the wood with putty, sand, and paint
it, and I know the hardwood floors need to be redone,
and I know a house is just a house and a dog is a member
of the family, but I was so f'ing livid. I am still upset
with her today. I'm also tired of her chasing and terrorizing
the cats, running into the bedrooms and grabbing clothes
that she chews up if I don't catch her, jumping on everyone
who comes in the house, etc. etc.
I thought dogs were supposed to help us in so many ways--
lower our blood pressure, make us feel less lonely, bring
joy into our lives. But Molly stresses me out to no end.
I hate to think I'm giving up, but it feels that way.
She deserves better.
****************************
I have to go see my doctor Friday. Otherwise, I can't
get my prescription filled again, and I have to have
my anti-anxiety meds to survive. Didn't realize
that I haven't seen her since May 2006. That was
just a month after Dad died. So much has happened
since then. So many other life-changing events, and
truly, I am not doing well with my station in life.
For all the people and things I have to be grateful
for, I am immersed in all the regrets of my life.
I miss who I was when I was the best I was.
I fear I shall never be that person again.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
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6 comments:
I won't say anything about Molly.
You should google John Katz. He's written some excellent pieces about dogs and life on a farm for Slate magazine that I think were compiled into a book. One of his pieces is about an impossible dog, named, if I recall correctly, Orson, who would not be good no matter what John did.
And don't fear that you won't be that person ever again. Because you won't. I miss who I was before my father died. I'm still adjusting to who I've become, and am becoming. Maggie, try to embrace that, who you are now, who you will be. You can't go back. You can't be that woman ever again.
There will be a best new you. When you're ready. I'm still waiting for my best new me. I feel her edging closer and closer--or maybe I'm edging closer and closer toward her--every day.
I love the photo of Molly on the grave.
My father was 64 when he died. I'm jealous that you had your father longer than I had mine.
Heck, I'm jealous that you loved your father better than I loved mine. I was getting there. I was learning how to be a good daughter.
Did I ever tell you about my family's first dog, Tippy? She was adopted by my parents from the humane society in Boston. She looked almost like a small silver wolf. Truly one of the most beautiful dogs I've ever seen. But she was bad. She chewed holes in the wood floor of the porch, ate or mauled all of my dolls and my brothers' toys, gnawed on the wooden legs of all the furniture, and snapped if you got anywhere near her while she was eating. Plus, she only really liked the family, was fiercely loyal to us, and would growl at strangers or people she decided she just didn't like.
She died when she was 2 years old. Hit by a car while she was taking a nap in the middle of our sunny country road.
We loved her. We cried when she died. But oh, my, she was a bad dog.
dogs are fairly easy to train, if one employs the right methods. there is some kind of training guy on cable, can't recall his name, but he does wonders with the simplest tricks. have you googled for methods to reach molly? don't give up before you try.
How old is Molly? Do you have a kennel for her?
My lab ate my laundry room wall, nearly destroyed the door, chewed my shoes, etc.,
She's 4 now and well-behaved, but it took crate-training and research to get her there.
God gives us our animals for a reason. Gracie came to save my life. Why do you think you have Molly?
Hey all,
Molly has been to obedience training, but that is only as good as her owners are willing to make it. In other words, it takes lots of work and patience (like rearing children) to get a dog like Molly to the point of obeying commands.
We are fairly consistent with sit/stay/come/down commands, but if she has any distraction, she's right back to doing the things we're trying to stop. She wears a pinch collar when walking or she would pull us all over the place. Her trainer suggested it. I have tried to walk her without it and it's a dangerous thing to do.
jim,
The guy on tv is known as The Dog Whisperer. I watch him when I think about the show. Many of the things he does I have already been doing with Molly, but again, not consistently. I want the trainer to have her trained! Then all I have to do is give the command, but it doesn't work that way.
Karen,
I am not sure why Molly came into my life. A friend of mine told me she felt Molly saved my life. She still believes that. I have had two other dogs in my married life, but I haven't had one since 1998 or 99, and he was an outside dog. I swore I would never have another dog that had to live outside on a chain. I've been so busy through the years that I've not had time to train a dog, but as I had so much time on my hands last winter, I decided the time was right for one. I also decided to get a pup thinking it would make things easier for my cats, but I was wrong. One of them hates Molly and the other is terrified. Molly is 11 months old and weighs 80 pounds.
I just feel too tired some days to make the effort to teach her how to behave, which is not fair to her and is not healthy for me. I love her, but she's driving me insane (well, I think I'm already there--she's just adding to it).
Laurel,
I'll look up Katz. Your suggestion about the alpha thing was most helpful, and part of the issue may still be one of domination.
I do miss who I was before Dad died, but it goes back further. I suppose everyone has their moments when things about the past always appear to be something that, in reality, perhaps were not as good as one remembers. I just feel so rootless.
I don't know that I loved my dad more than you loved yours. We'd have to have that whole philosophical debate on what constitutes love to get there. It was easy to love dad because he gave love easily and forgave easily and had loads of patience and he was a genuinely fine, good man.
You have told me about Tippy. Bad dog and all though, I bet you guys didn't scream at her. I totally lose my temper with Molly. It's a good thing she doesn't know what @#*^%!*$# means and she can't repeat it.
Thanks guys. We had a better day today. Perhaps because I was gone all day and she was home alone and was most happy to see me when I got in. Tail wagging--hell, her whole backside moving around, her eyes all happy looking, her big sloppy kisses. She was simply overjoyed that I was home, and that made my day.
Maggie, I would sit in front of the computer WEEPING....looking for answers and fearing that Gracie would end up a horrible dog. We sent her to doggie day camp to run the energy off her. We thought about giving her to the companion trainers, seriously. Then, when she was diagnosed with kidney issues, we wept much more.
I hadn't had a dog for 30 years! Just cats. The one cat that REALLY hated Gracie now has fallen in love with her--the other one hisses at her but that's about it. We're not obedience wizards ourselves and she has her moments...but Molly's breed and Gracie's breed are nuts until they are around 1-3 years old. Gracie settled down at around 2 or 3.
I have many health issues and deal with depression...and she has saved my life. She has to be walked daily and sometimes I have to drag myself out, but it is the best thing.
Your last line spoke volumes. Hang in there!
Karen,
I have panic disorder and struggle with depression as well. Having to walk Molly forces me to get outside and do something good for me. It is in those moments when I can really enjoy her. To watch her run full force and dive into a pile of leaves and roll all over just because it feels good and to watch her stick her face down into the muck of a puddle or ditch and come up with a smile on her face and to see her come running back to me when I get too far away just makes me appreciate her spirit. She's not meant to be an indoor dog, or I guess she could be but she still needs so much outdoor time that we/I cannot always give her.
I just need patience--something I once had so much of but now seem to lack.
Irish setters mature rather slowly, so if I can just hang on for another year or two (yikes--gonna be hard if she keeps chewing things up and doing all the bad doggie things she does!) then I think we'll make it and be best buds.
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