I always called Molly my puppy nomatter how old she got. She was so cute even with her white muzzle, she was as pretty as could be. I still feel her moving around in the bed, I'm dead serious! I can see her everywhere in my little apartment. The thing that hits me hardest is when I come home and I open the door and her shiney black nose isn't sticking into the door to greet me...it's lonely here..the silence is deafening.

I probably should write something positive..well, I AM grateful she passed away peacefully in my arms from old age instead of being put to sleep because she was terrified of vet hospitals. I didn't want her to go that way and we were on the way to get her put to sleep and when I got in the car she passed 2 minutes later...she knew how very much I loved and adored her. She wasn't a pet! She was my baby..
It just was so sudden..she was fine and in 2 weeks she went downhill real fast and it ended. I wasn't ready for it. Her being so healthy I thought she would live to be 17.

I'm in so much pain! I weep constantly for my best friend..no one in my life has EVER lived with me that long, not even my parents who divorced when I was nine. It couldn't hurt worse if one of my siblings died. That may sound aweful but that's the way I feel. MollyMae Loved me uncondionally where as my family doesn't.

I remember Molly's kisses, rolling over on her back for me to rub her belly, and her howling at the mailman. Beagles have a distinct bark, it's so funny..I would always laugh! She knew lots of tricks when she was younger but the only one she remembered when she got old was sittin' pretty. She would sit straight up on her hind legs with her paws right in front of her and beg for her treat. It was so cute..I could never resist her.