July 5, 2017 was a day I’d rather forget.
It was the day when I lost my beloved fur baby, Molly.
One year later, the pain is almost as unbearable as it was that tragic day.
One year later, I’m still wiping tears from my face as my thoughts frequently turn to her.
Some people might think it’s dumb to grieve so deeply over a dog, but she was so much more than that to me.
She was a member of my family – my little shadow – the neck that I hugged after a bad day.
There’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think about her . . . when I don’t miss her, even with all of the quirks that she had.
Every time I lift my wrist to check the time, I see one of my favorite pictures of the two of us, taken in healthier and happier times.
Last night, as I began to hear firecrackers popping in the sky, I cried. I couldn’t help but remember the way that Molly, so scared of loud noises, slept through them last year, another sign that her life was ebbing away.
One year later, my heart is still shattered over the loss of my best furry friend.
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