Miss Molly-Moo-Moo

You’ve heard a lot about Toby this week and almost nothing of Molly.  Molly worships the ground I walk on unless I’m not there; in which case she worships whoever is giving her the most attention.

She is the most loving dog but she doesn’t do dog behaviour: Walk?  No thanks; I might get wet/cold/hot/dirty.  Food? Is it gourmet/heated/yours?  Maybe, if you spend long enough coaxing me.  Coat?  Absolutely!  And t-shirt, jumper, blanket as well.  I’m freezing!  It is August, after all.

She hasn’t done anything interesting of late (she has to be prised from my side for that) so I thought I’d re-post A Day In The Life, to give you a flavour of her character:

• Scratch at Mummy’s door but she can’t hear me over her avalanche impression.
• Go potty.
• Bark to wake Mummy.
• Watch her stand in my poo and go potty.
• Hide in the cushion like a cutie pie.
• Cuddled for reassurance that Mummy loves me despite what she is sure is a mistake on my part.  Phew.
• Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.
• Demand breakfast.
• Turn nose up at breakfast.
• Let Mummy hand feed me my breakfast of expensive tinned dog meat.
• Love Mummy.  Manage a sticky lick to her face.
• Love Mummy.  Wonder why she’s looking a little nauseated.
• Sleep behind Mummy while she’s at the computer.
• Wake up, irritated by the noise Mummy makes when she falls off her little bit of the seat.
• Love Mummy: if I’m going to be awake, I might as well enjoy it.
• Watch Mummy trying to type one-handed while I sit on her lap for an extended belly rub.
• Sleep.
• Take the occasional sniff at Toby’s bottom, particularly when he wants a fuss from Mummy.

• Drool as Mummy eats lunch.
• Refuse to let her up until I get my share.
• Sleep, exhausted from eating my protection money.
• The dreaded walk…
• Tolerate grooming; harness, putting on of; coat, putting on of; coat, taking off of; harness, taking off of; coat, putting on of; harness, putting on of.  I knew she had it the wrong way round but I didn’t tell her because it might start raining before she’s finished and then I have a legitimate excuse to refuse to leave house.
• Open door.  See rain.  Refuse to leave house.
• Tolerate harness, taking off of; coat, taking off of.
• Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.
• Sleep.
• Ignore the weird kid who sleeps in the room next door to Mummy, when he comes downstairs, eats, grunts, and returns to his hole.
• Drool as Mummy eats dinner.
• Refuse to let her up until I get my share.
• Demand dinner.
• Turn nose up at dinner.
• Let Mummy hand feed me my dinner of expensive soft pellets.
• Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.
• Sleep.
• Cuddle Daddy while Mummy’s busy, keeping my eyes trained at all times on Mummy.

• Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.
• Stick to Mummy like poo to her toes as she prepares for bed; she’s going nowhere without me.
• Wait patiently to be lifted on to the bed because I’m too feeble to jump up myself, unless she’s not there.
• Have extended cuddle until Mummy’s arms ache, her tea goes cold and she knocks her Kindle onto the floor while trying to reach around me.
• Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.
• Sleep.
• Disturbed by Mummy trying to get comfortable on her tenth of the bed.
• Wait until she settles then sit on the most awkward part of her body (varies according to whether she’s lying on her front, back or side).
• Sleep.
• Disturbed by Daddy giving me a goodnight cuddle before he puts me out of the room so he can go to bed.
• Give Daddy the evil eye for separating me from Mummy.
• Wait for Daddy to fall asleep and try to sneak back in; jump easily onto the bed and wiggle my way between them, sleeping long-ways to get comfortable.
• Daddy’s on to me: he shuts the door properly this time.
• Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Can’t be separated from Mummy.
• Scratch at Mummy’s door but she can’t hear me over her avalanche impression.
• Go potty.