Certain people get an automatic pass in life. Your family for one, or at least I hope that to be true although sometimes it can take years for that pass to be given. But your beloved four legged member of your family well…that is an absolute immediate automatic.

They can do no wrong, harm or foul. Alright they can but it isn’t intentional. Strike that, it isn’t malicious…hmm well maybe chewing the brand new designer glasses left on the coffee table because you were left alone at home when you wanted to be included in  a family outing might be considered malicious. That isn’t what I am talking about even though to this day I shake my head and say to myself “what was Molson thinking?”

No what I am talking about is something that if in any other circumstances someone other than your beloved dog perpetrated this event you may not be so forgiving. But since it falls under the “Molson didn’t do it intentionally” category all is forgiven. It was never even a remote thought in the head that there was anything to forgive.

I think all golden’s should come with a warning sticker stuck on their head “warning, skull harder than rock!”

Eleven years ago I had recently moved with my family, beloved Molson included to Calgary. It was a glorious day, you know the one where the sky is blue and the sun is shining, everything is sparkling and I was just starting my daily walk to Glenmore Reservoir. I had just received a phone call from one of the city’s art centres that they wanted me to teach full time, so I was a happy camper.

The thought that went through my head was “This is THE best day ever!” as I bent down to pick up Molson’s leash that had fallen through my hands. At that very second Molson looked up. BAM…his skull connected with my mouth forever banishing my perfect record of perfect teeth! Besides the annual cleaning and pats on the back from my dentist and boasts from my husband to anyone that could give a crap that his wife had a perfect mouth, my record was obliterated!

At that second when all of the stars misaligned my beloved dog punched one of my upper front teeth out of my mouth. Or to be more accurate, because a clean punch of the tooth out of my mouth, may have made everything way easier to fix and clean up. No my tooth was split in half under the gum line and was pointing back into my palette with me unable to close my mouth out of sheer pain, shock and location.

As it happened I had an appointment a week later already booked with a dentist for my first appointment. Under complete shock at the time with tears streaming down my face I picked up Molson’s leash, calmly turned around and walked back into the house. My son who was home at the time immediately assessed the situation and when I garbled that I had bumped into Molson’s head. My son ever protective of his mom started to yell at Molson. I quickly told my son to stop yelling at the puppy “it wasn’t his fault”.

When I called the dentist’s office to tell them I was a new patient and had an appointment next week with the doctor but had an emergency that required immediate attention, the receptionist explained the doctor was busy and would see me tomorrow.

As I started to sob and garble into the phone I can’t close my mouth and I have my sons bar mitzvah in Montreal next week and I have blood pouring out of my mouth she finally took pity and told me to come right in.

Four hours later, one partial extraction, one emergency root canal, stitches and a fake tooth put into place I went home. But not before the receptionist came into the room and apologized, she hadn’t realized how truly serious the trauma was and an amazed dentist kept exclaiming “wow you usually see an injury like yours when a hockey puck hits you straight in the mouth”.

Well eleven years later, two reconstructive surgeries, one implant in place, my mouth is perfect. And may I mention Molson never even had a bump on his head. The only thing I can tell you is that I kiss that hard as rock head everyday as often as possible but every time I bend down I watch to make sure he isn’t looking up!

I also never utter the words “This is THE best day ever!” anymore for fear of jinxing myself.

But never, ever for a second is it necessary to forgive Molson for anything. He can knock out my tooth, and now because of his hip dysplasia blow out my back which he has because I am always lifting him. He can pee and pooh constantly in the house because he has lost control. He can do anything he wants to for as long as he wants to because nothing can measure the love he is giving and the joy he brings to our lives. I only pray he feels the same…