She sleeps with a small soft-covered album filled with pictures of Molly. She reads and re-reads “Dog Heaven.” And for the past three nights, she’s faithfully visited Molly’s grave.
“I want to go to Molly,” she said tonight. She linked her arm through mine. “Will you come with me, mama?”
I didn’t want to. It hurts to think of my sweet shepherd buried beneath a crusty winter ground.
But I went. Because she wanted me.
When we got to the grave, she undid the bouquet of flowers and spread them around.
“Where’s her head, mama?” she asked.
I pointed, and she placed a yellow rose there.
Finally, I spoke. “We love you, Miss Molly.”
My daughter smiled. Then she knelt and kissed the rock that marks our doggie’s resting place.
Meet Cathy Frye — deer widow, mama to two small children and stepmom to two teenagers. By day, she writes for the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. By night, she Googles things like “whooping cough symptoms” or “child ate toothpaste.” Cathy describes herself as barefoot, breeding and medicated. Her husband considers her a real catch! 
Now I crying! I feel for you and your family. Luv – Kristina
That is just heartbreaking, I’m so sorry for your loss.
My dear, sweet, loving granddaughter. She has me in tears again.