In Loving Memory of Molly Padmanabhan
Also known as Molly Boo, Molly Ba, Molly Mama, Baby Moll, Kana, Kuti
Molly was not just a dog — she was the quiet heartbeat of her home. Small in size, soft in spirit, and endlessly affectionate, she entered the Padmanabhan family as part of a bonded-pair with her sister, Nettie, who passed away earlier this year. It was fate that brought her in: a simple visit to the 4 Luv of Dog Rescue website, a search for one little dog, and the discovery of two souls who simply belonged together.
From the start, Molly made it clear that love, to her, meant closeness and connection. She wasn’t just fond of cuddling, she needed it. Whether curling up beside her humans or muscling her way between them on the couch, Molly insisted on being in the very center of affection. While her humans watched TV, Molly regularly climbed on top of them and wriggled with determined precision until she was nestled between her trusted humans — perfectly content, perfectly triumphant, and perfectly perfect.
Molly filled her home with energy, devotion, and more than a little mischief. She had her routines: from patrolling the window for “threats” to barking joyfully when her people came home. Molly regularly performed her signature couch-to-recliner sprint until someone joined the game. Her “sniffaris” on walks were deliberate and unhurried, each scent a small story worth pausing as she drank in the sweetest aromas of other dogs that had come before. And always, there was her beloved orange squeaky pig — a toy she eventually learned to use as a clever tool to summon her humans upstairs for bedtime.
She had soul-searching eyes — deep, intelligent, and knowing. When Molly looked at you, it felt like she saw something sacred inside you... something only you and her knew. She loved humans more than other animals (and had BIG opinions about tall men), but once you earned her trust — usually through the diplomatic offering of many treats — her loyalty was unshakable.
To her family, Molly was not just a companion; she was a rhythm of daily life. She kept time. Like clockwork, she would remind her people that bedtime was 8:00 sharp, that naps were best shared, and that love was best expressed through touch. She reminded them, too, that joy doesn’t have to be loud to be profound.
Now reunited with Nettie, Molly’s warmth lingers in the quiet corners of her home — in the soft indentation of her favorite nap spot, in the echo of a squeaky toy, and in the tender pause before bedtime, when love still fills the space she once ruled so gently.
