“Good Golly, Miss Molly!”
“How could this happen?” those who know us have asked. “Wasn’t there enough mayhem at their house?”
“I know why you did it,” my sister told me. “It hit me when I saw a commercial for one of those ‘Buddies’ movies on television.”
“Well, you’re partly right,” I confessed. “She did immediately make me think of the ‘Air Buddies’ when I saw her, and I have been singing the song from ‘Snow Buddies’ all week. But, you must know that I did not wake up one morning thinking that I just needed to find a Buddy that day. It just kind of happened.”
That’s pretty much like a lot of things at our house: not always planned, just kind of happen (like Chewka Marie). Here’s the story: We had neighbors move in the house just across the fence of our back yard a couple of weeks ago. I had noticed the two little chihuahuas because they loved to come to the back fence and exchange barks with Toffee and Cookie. And then… I saw her. She didn’t bark like the others did; she just sat on the back porch, chewing on a stick, lolling around and being mellow.
“How cute!” I thought and called her over. She came running to me with all her puppy might, ready for petting. She was the happiest little critter I have ever seen.
Later, when we saw the new neighbors out, Robert and I leaned over the fence and introduced ourselves (I hope they don’t think we are crazed stalkers). They seemed really nice and we got all their family scoop, gave all our family scoop, and then we started talking about their dogs. Long story short, Molly (whom they called Emmy), was supposed to be their daughter’s puppy, but she had something come up where she couldn’t take her, so she had asked them to keep her. Unfortunately, their landlord didn’t have a problem with the smaller ones, but Emmy couldn’t stay.
What can I say? We are just suckers! I have accepted the fact that my white tile floor will forever need mopping and that I cannot just take off on a whim, but this little girl needed a home, and we were the place. Besides, I was not the only one who was smitten with Molly. When Robert and I married, he had a Golden Retriever named Ralph who lived to be 14 years old. I have never seen Robert cry as hard as he did the day that Ralph passed away. I think Molly brings back some fond memories for him.
Ralph and Mandy (about age 5), fishing with Dad:
Molly has been great! She lets us know when she wants to go out and has a great time exploring the yard:
She has taken to her crate:
She definitely feels comfortable:
She loves her chew toys:
And she has found a spot between the sofa and the wall that is a perfect fit:
The only problems: Cookie and Toffee. I knew that Cookie wouldn’t be thrilled, but she usually does her own thing anyway. I truly thought that Toffee would be thrilled to have a playmate, but I was sorely wrong. Her puppy pounces get on his nerves to no end, and he lets her know it.
“Good! You can just stay in there!”
My strategy has been to limit their interaction, except under controlled circumstances, and to relegate everyone to a different part of the house or yard the rest of the time so that no one gets hurt. Molly has learned already not to pester Cookie too much, and hopefully she will soon learn to not pester Toffee and just do her own thing. Hopefully Cookie and Toffee will learn that Molly is not a threat, but she is here to stay, and just learn to like it. I am keeping Chewka Marie out of the whole thing by taking her outside if Molly is inside, or putting Molly outside when Chewka is inside playing. Molly has discovered Chewka, and loves to sit outside Chewka’s cage and watch her. I’m hoping she will someday get to the point that she can interact with Chewka like Toffee and Cookie do, but I’m not going to push it.
So there you go…For anyone who has ever wondered if we were just a little bit crazy, it has now been confirmed. But, like my sister told me this weekend, “Well, personally, I think anyone who can’t love a puppy must have doo-doo in their soul!”
I wouldn’t want that to happen to me!
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