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Molly was a discard from a ranch in Pahrump Nv. She’d managed to get under a horses hoof and get her leg broken. Though she was only a few months old, the rancher had no use for a lame dog. She came to us through a neighbor. With some skilled vet care, she healed and her puppyhood injury never slowed her a bit. She brought her family o flyball with her need for an outlet for her huge amounts of energy and playfulness. In her prime she was one of the fastest dogs in the game running in the low 4’s. (this was before dogs were breaking into the sub 4’s.) She was tireless and fearless and would stand her ground against any dog. She was a great trainer for green dogs on the team teaching them to stay in their own lane.
She also put in hundreds of hours as a therapy dog working with patients rehabing from brain surgery or stroke. She was a “Ball Dog” and took her job “Working hospital” very seriously. Gentle with the weak patients and playful with the stronger ones. Chased bubbles that the children would blow, and lay gentle when a frightened patient would hold her and cry.
She passed suddenly living life to the fullest to the very end. She was at a flyball tournament and it was a beautiful day. She was running through the sprinklers in the morning and chasing her frisbee across the grass to warm up. She raced the first race of the day and went to rest. At the time of the 2nd race, she was not herself, not wanting to run and not steady on her feet. Within the next hour, her gums had gone white and we raced off to the nearest vet. Examination revealed internal bleeding beyond repair most likely from a tumor of some sort that had ruptured. By 3pm that day, she was gone. The grief of her passing was shared by all in the flyball community that day.
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