Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Mad Molly, an extremely special Canine to Mwah, sadly takes the Chequered Flag...



Bird's eye view of Tacoma Bureau Chief Mary Ellen with her "Posse," aka Thy esteemed Mad Molly & Thou Pixolator traversing thee Sand Dunes on one of our numerous Treks to Thou Other Florence. (The Tomaso Collection)
Yeah, I know this is supposed to be an Open Wheel Racing Blogsite, but like Mary Ellen's told me a hundred times, It's my Blog and I can Bloody Well write about anything I wish too...

I got the call Thursday evening, July 7th around 5:30PM from Tacoma Bureau Chief Mary Ellen, for which I believe I heard Mad Molly's final words; Err barking before racing off to the Other Side.

As that was so Surreal! Actually the weirdest thing I've ever heard a Dog do. As she sounded like a Duck Quack-Quacking, as Mary Ellen said, I think she's gone...

As bizarrely, or was I-T Karmically? I was in the midst of reading Robin Miller's rant upon the just publicly announced passing of Carl Haas when the telephone rang...


Even stranger yet, which just happens to be one of those 'lil Co-INky-dences that makes Yuhs go Huh? I'd posted that Sum-Sum-summertime post devoted to Molly on July 4th, which just so happens to be the day she took a turn for the worse, when her lug-nuts seemed to have fallen off, as Mary Ellen said I think she's had a stroke? (Although perhaps it was a Seizure instead?) As Molly's entire personality changed and she basically quit eating, which was 100% opposite of her life-long M.O. (Modus Operandi)


NURSERY RYME
Obviously Y'all can guess where I came up with my clever adaptation I used to muse to myself several years ago, since apparently Small Dogs are more "Needy" then big Dogs, eh?

Mary Ellen had a Dog who's fleece was White as Snow,
And everywhere Mary Ellen went, Molly was Sure to follow!

REFLECTIONS
In absolutely NO way am I trying to compare or contrast the following walks 'O life,
but I cannot help admitting that I haven't balled my eyes out like this, albeit this time for days, since nearly a year ago when my Numero Uno IndyCar Driver Justin B-I-G' UNIT Wilson died effectively at Pocono Raceway, on August 23rd when flying debris rained down from the sky...

Out of respect to this most wondrous canine, I've decided to wait until Thy Tears quit flowing before posting this, since even a Fortnight later, upon finishing typing this, I still cry when listening to one of my favourite Pearl Jam songs, titled Crazy Mary, which for some strange unknown reason makes me think of Mad Molly.

VIDEO: Crazy Mary

Naturally, my coining the moniker Mad Molly was simply a term of endearment, as she was a wonderful dog who only got M-A-D if she didn't get her way! Whilst perhaps the reason the Crazy Mary song comes to mind is because Mary Ellen rescued her, giving Molly a way better life!

As I do not typically become overly melodramatic regarding a fallen racer's life being extinguished, with the exception of Justin B-I-G' UNIT Wilson's; while certainly there were many before that fateful weekend at Imola, but Black Sunday was my introduction to this tragic consequence of racing gone wrong! As many have occurred during my 30yrs of Open Wheel Racing observance, from the legends such as Senna, Earnhardt, Moore, Wheldon and Wilson.

To the unheralded likes of Roland Ratzenberger, Scotty Brayton, Jeff Krosnoff, Marco Simoncelli, Harry Surtees, Gonzalo Rodriguez, Tony Renna, Jovy Marcelo and Luis Salom to name just a few of the countless ex-racers. As Y'all get the idea, right?

Whilst Molly was preceded in death by the passing of Gypsy, Sarah, Kobi, Nutkin, Rosa Luna and Lilly...

THIS IS YOUR LIFE...
In another symbiotic nod to unknown reasoning, whenever I hear those words above I think of Corporal Klinger of MASH TV Fame...

Molly was born and raised in the tiny 'lil enclave known as Point Roberts, Washington. Spat out from one of the countless "Puppy Farms" dotting the nation - with her "Born-on Date" unknown, albeit possibly a Y2k baby? Since the best Mary Ellen can come up with is that Molly was "Sweet 16," albeit not in Doggy Years...

Molly was Lilly's Seester', the first of these two "Junkyard Dog's" of Tibetan mix Mary Ellen acquired, as Lilly would later have a litter 'O four puppies, including the runt of these being a precocious Chihuahua mix fondly known on these No Fenders pages as Thy Pixolator, which speelchequer always wants to change to a well known Oil filter brand called Purolator; but I digress...

My first vivid recollections of being introduced to Molly was Wayback in Twenty-oh-Eight when we traveled to The Gorge at George, WA to hear some 'lil 'Ol Kuhnadiun Rock 'N roll group affectionately known as "The Power Trio."

Yep, Y'all guessed right, they're the band RUSh - for which just so happened to have Geddy croonin' Hit after Hit at the Gorge just five days after Scott Dixon won some 'lil Oval race at 16th & Georgetown.

Molly was truly M-A-D after being abandoned for some three hours on her own in 'Ol Blue, Mary Ellen's trusty 'Ol Camper-van, which contrasted quite differently from one RUSh Aficionado wanting to give me a Hug, since he'd never Hugged a Blind person before...

Upon our return, I got the dubious task of holding an extremely Pissed Off Doggie, who began frantically scratching, clawing, twisting, etc while trying to break free from my grasp like a bucking Bronco! Even attempting to bite me! Which was one of only two times ever I can recall! The second being when she bit my arm when trying to remove her from my couch.

Yet from this first sketchy outing, Molly totally burrowed her way into my Heart and quickly became my All-time Numero Uno Canine of Mary Ellen's, with NO disrespect to the others, most notably Thy Pixolator. As Molly's stature was quickly elevated to my Oh, So clever internal code of GB1 = Goof Ball 1, with Pixie (the Charming Chihuahua) becoming GB2!

As how can I ever forget Molly at my heels waiting to be picked up and placed upon my lap. And if Pixie dared taking it first, Molly simply would plop herself down in the prime position regardless of Pixie's locale, quite content to squash Pixie in order to have the majority of Thy lap!

and even though I was on the "Rent-2-Own" plan, I quickly came to appreciate looking forward to my next visit with whom became known as "My Girls!"

As these two were the epitome of Flotsam & Jetsam. Or perhaps better yet Tom & Jerry? Providing us hours of amusement, whilst I eagerly awaited Mary Ellen telling them to run upstairs and get Tomaso, which was the ultimate wake-up alarm clock!

And in just one 'lil snippet of how much these two were forever bonded, they had a highly comical daily skit whenever eating. As Pixie would wait first for ravenous Molly to inhale her food before Pixie would take a nibble and then stand at her bowl growling defiantly at Molly...

as I can go on 'N on about the countless hours of watching the back of Molly's head whilst seated upon Thy lap pivoting back 'N forth like a Bobblehead, which always conjured up images of the Muppets to Mwah, countless trips into Thou Bush, Mountains, both sides of Washington, Oregon and Oh KanaDuh, as that final trek to Mount Rainier to ride the Gondola where I carried Molly on my back in a custom Doggy Backpack stands out fondly...


Yet what I've noticed the most is how difficult life must be for Pixie, who as Mary Ellen quickly pointed out has never been alone once in her life until that fateful night, for which I'll forever be eternally grateful for Mary Ellen trying so diligently to honour my request to see Molly one final time and to be present if ever this Mad Hatter puppy dog needed to be put down in order to not suffer further.

As I'm deeply touched that I got to hear Molly's final barking, along with Mary ELLEN bringing her by post mortem and allowing me to touch her as long as desired in order to say goodbye...

Molly contracted seemingly an un-normal condition for the final few years of her life, suffering the ill effects of what most simply can be called a collapsed trachea, which made her wheeze constantly, sounding like she'd smoked one too many Marlboros, which not only wasn't the case, but simply wasn't Molly's fault.

And although life's gotten really boring for Thy Pixolator, who's lost her partner, doesn't have anybody to growl at, fight with or do the other things doggy's do. Nonetheless, Molly left us one final present, as a song was played on the radio the morning of her departure, so aptly titled Molly on The Shore.


As I'll probably get in trouble for this, not to mention completely mucking I-T up, but I like to believe that Molly's made it across the waters to the Hebrides Islands, specifically the Isle of Beyond the North wind, which is apparently Celtic lore regarding the Otherworld, where Molly get's to hog anybody's lap whenever she wants, eat as much food as possible, sleep in her own royal people's bed and doesn't have to deal with her nasty continuous wheezing!

As there are several versions of this song, with three variations being performed by Percy Grainger, Rachel Barton Pine and Northern Simfonia, which were the first three I was informed of.

Yet I've chosen Messer Grainger's as my favourite, since for Mwah, it truly captures the spirit of Molly! While Rachel Barton Pine, who's definitely a violin virtuoso is runner-up, whilst think I've since heard a cello version which is also enjoyable too.

But Percy's full orchestra version just epitomizes Mad Molly, who had a 'Wee bit 'O Calvin in her, who I'll miss dearly! As I can still see her sitting in my lap, head turned towards Mary Ellen smiling, tongue hanging out in that look of ecstasy that I've got Tomaso's lap...

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