Honey The Pizza Guy

There are two vehicles that Molly easily recognizes. They are the UPS little brown truck (she doesn't like them) and any car delivering a pizza. I don't know if it is the little triangle on top of the pizza delivery car or Molly can smell the pizza, but she starts barking as soon as he/she rounds the street corner near my house.

Yesterday afternoon I called Pizza Hut and ordered me a pizza to be delivered so I would have a great snack while I watched the NFL Draft. They were here in about twenty minutes and Molly alerted me when he arrived. I had to shut her up in the bedroom so I could pay for it. That is a standard practice in my household.

The pizza guy knocks on the door, I open it, and there is the pizza guy standing on my front porch with Honey, my neighbor's Boxer that came over from next door. I guess she thought he needed an escort from his car to my front door, but there she stood just as calm as she could be. That is a feet for Honey because she is never calm about anything. When I opened the door to give him the money, Honey briefly considered inviting herself in but I discouraged that notion. I can only imagine the brawl that would have broken out had she made it in to my house.

The pizza guy gives her a few pats on the head and Honey did not feel inclined to escort him back to his car. She didn't even get any pizza for her troubles.

The Protector

Any time I am sick or injured, Molly always stays right by my side to protect me from evil and those that may seek to injure me. I had surgery on my right foot on Monday afternoon and Molly was waiting on me when I got home. She spent the night by my side making sure I was alright. She spent the next day following me around the house, making sure i was O.K.

Last night we had a bad thunderstorm and Molly insisted that it was my turn to make sure she was alright by continuously waking me up so I could personally address the storm issues. We both made it through the night and she is presently sleeping it off. I think I may have to join her.

Molly's Nose

Molly is a mixed breed dog and I don't have a problem with that. I do not need AKC papers telling me that she is a great dog, my best friend, or a Diva but I do find myself speculating as to what kind of breed makes up her essence.

One guess I have is that she is part bloodhound because of her super sensitive nose. She doesn't even look remotely close to being a bloodhound but she can sniff out anything. When she was a young pup, we would be walking through the yard and she would start sniffing real hard along the ground. About 5 to 10 feet later, she would start digging in the ground furiously and she would scratch a mole or some other kind of rodent.

The other day we were walking outside, and Molly comes to a dead stop, and sticks her nose almost straight up in the air. She takes a couple of sniffs, her nose is twitching furiously, and she takes a hard look at her dog lot which is slightly to the northwest of us, about 40 yards away. I look up that way and I don't see anything out of the ordinary or any animals lurking around. Molly has other ideas and makes a beeline for the lot. She starts sniffing real hard and looking underneath the platform that her lot sits on. When we get to the far edge, she flushes out a cat that was hiding underneath the platform. I was amazed that she smelled the cat from about 40 yards away and knew exactly where it was at.

Molly's weakness has always been rabbits. There must be a special smell about them or something because she can smell a rabbit from about a mile away. They also provide the opportunity for a good chase. This morning I had her in her lot and there was a rabbit that emerged from the woods behind my neighbors house. I don't think Molly could see him because her view was obstructed by a utility building but she starts barking because she knew he was there. She smelled his presence. He quickly beat feet back into the woods. I posted on my Facebook page that the Easter bunny had come to visit my house but Molly had chased him off.

As sensitive as her nose is, the one smell she is oblivious too is her own farts. There is a children's story out there called "Walter the Farting Dog" and this dog cannot have anything on Molly. Last night she was laying in the floor and I caught a whiff of one of her eye watering, nose hair burning, noxious gas bombs that you can't escape from fast enough and she just laid there looking at me and made no effort to run for cover like I did. She probably thought it was funny and she also probably thought she may have owed me one.

Feeling Like A Young Pup Again

There comes a certain time in your life when you start to get a little bit too old to do the things you used to do, especially physically. My weakness has always been playing basketball, whether it be shooting baskets or a pick-up game every once in a while. I am at the crossroads stage now where I know I am going to pay for it for several days afterwards when I do something like that.

I believe dogs have those moments as well. Molly's weakness is running. When she was a puppy she used to have these running fits in the house where she would run just as fast as she could go from one end of the house to the other. She would be jumping on beds, the couch, circling objects in the floor, and these would last five minutes or more.

When she was done she would end up on one of the beds, panting real hard, tongue hanging out, a wild look in her eyes, but full of life and excited to be alive. She had one of those moments this afternoon but now she is going to pay for it for the next several days. I will ease her pain as best
I can.

It was great to see her go and just run. It caught me by surprise and I laughed as she tore thru the house. She was feeling great to be alive and wanted to let me know it. She was rambunctious all afternoon and she finally couldn't control herself any longer. I do it not because I have to but because I want to and I am sure she did the same thing. She allowed herself to feel the giddiness and exuberance of youth one more time. Damn! It felt good!

Honey

Honey is my next door neighbors Boxer. She is beautiful and probably the sweetest, most even-tempered dog I have ever been around. There are alot of stray dogs that seem to make their way to my neighborhood and any time they do, Honey makes friends with all of them. Five minutes after I see a stray dog trotting through my backyard, they'll be in my neighbors yard playing with Honey. They'll be romping and ripping through the backyard like a couple of kids after school. She is definitely not an Alpha dog.

A couple of afternoons ago I am sitting in my computer room and I look out the window and I see Honey trot by, squat in my yard right in front of my porch, and take a dump. She then trots off to her yard. Why she felt the urge to do that, I do not know, but I do know Molly will return the favor.

Karma exists even in the dog kingdom. Yesterday afternoon I am sitting outside enjoying the beautiful weather, writing in my journal, and Molly is sitting beside me. I hear a loud hiss, instantaneously followed by the sound of Honey yelping. It was like a surprised shriek. I look up and a beautiful, gray-colored cat and Honey are squared off in the street in front of my house. I should say that the cat was squared off and Honey was busy backing off. The cat was bowed up, eyes wide, and mouth still open hissing a warning to Honey. Honey is slowly backing up, with a surprised look on her face like "What did I do?"

I couldn't help but laugh and they overheard me and both shot me a glance. The cat walked off and went on about her business and Honey slowly made her way up to me after taking one to the chops. She hardly ever lets me pet her but after the run-in with the cat, Honey needed a little TLC.

Honey let me give her several pats on the back, assuage her ego a little bit, and she sauntered on off to lick her wounds. Molly thought it was funny but not happy that I was petting her.

Our Daily Walks

Since I have been out of work, Molly and I have started taking several walks a day and we are both going to hate me going back to work. Maybe her more than me. Today was a perfect day. The temperature was in the high 70's, a slight breeze blowing across the backyard, and it was a great day to go exploring.

Molly and I are usually able to cover most of the ecological spectrum when we walk. We have the woods behind the house, the grassy yard, and the creek across the road to explore in. It is better late in the afternoon when shade covers most of the backyard.

There are so many things to see. There are ladyslippers getting ready to bloom in the woods (although I have to work real hard to keep Molly from fertilizing them), Molly loves looking for water life in the creek (although a Wendy's cup hardly qualifies), and she has to personally examine every bush along the path. We have been able to redefine stopping and smelling the roses and its a beautiful thing.

Rainy Days

Molly, like most dogs, hates the rain. If it is raining real hard, she refuses to go outside and I can't say I blame her. She is alright with a light rain, but anything harder and I can't drag her outside.

It rained all night long last night but luckily, I was granted enough of a window this morning to be able to take her outside. It was raining very lightly and we were able to stay outside about 20 minutes. It started pouring again about 5 minutes after we came back into the house.

Molly very rarely, if ever, gets put out in her lot out back but she used to spend quite a bit of time out there when she was a puppy. When she did stay out there she would refuse to get in her dog house if it was raining. I don't know if she wanted me to feel sorry for her or what but it usually worked. I always went and got her and brought her in the house.

There was one time when I came home from work, it was raining like it was being poured out of a bucket. There Molly sat outside waiting on me to come home. I dutifully went out there and got her and we were both totally drenched by the time I got her in the house. We dried her off for about thirty minutes, used just about every towel in the house, and it still didn't help.

One more "Rainy Day" story. My wife had gotten Molly one of those huge pet pillows to put out in her lot to make it more comfortable for her. We went out and put it in her doghouse and fixed it up real nice. The next time it rained, I looked out our kitchen window and Molly had dragged her pet pillow out of her doghouse and was all curled up on it, laying on it out in the rain. I couldn't help but laugh. I also went outside and brought her in.

Molly At Rest

It seems that Molly is always at rest with the exception of 3 or 4 hours a day. Watching her sleep is like watching an artist at work. The dog knows how to nap.

I spread out a sleeping bag on the bed for her to sleep on now and she takes full advantage of it. I have been out of work now for about a month so we have been able to sleep in a little bit longer (usually about 6:30) before she gets me up to take her out. We come back in and she immediately goes back to bed and sleeps until about lunchtime (kind of like a teenager). Every once in a while I will go into the bedroom and she will look at me and give me a big yawn and stretch. She is back asleep within minutes.

We usually go back out about lunchtime for a quick whiz and she is usually a little more active for the next hour or so. She will bring me one of her toys and we will play tug-of-war or fetch for a little while and then it is time for her afternoon nap. She usually divides her time napping on the bed or she will come into my computer room and nap on the floor beside me. If something is going on outside that I need to know about, she will give me a couple of "woofs" and let me know what's going on.

We go out after her afternoon nap about 4 and she is always more active until about 6 or 7 and then it is time to wind down for the day.

Her bedtime is usually about 7:30 and she will go stretch out on the bed and go to sleep. I have to make sure she is awake before I attempt to get into the bed because if I wake her up from a deep sleep, I am liable to get bit. Same thing if she is dreaming. I dare not wake her up when she is dreaming of chasing something. I am in trouble if I do.

A Member Of The Family

An elderly lady lives in the house beside me and she had been babysitting the "granddog" the past couple of days. I walked over and was petting it (much to Molly's displeasure and she let me hear about it) and she started telling me that the dog was 13 years old and they were all dreading the day that it wasn't around. She said the dog was like a member of the family.

She is right about that. Molly and I are probably more in tune than me or any of my other family members. I am sure my father felt the same way about his dogs. His dogs knew him and what he was thinking better than he did. I talk to Molly more than I do the rest of my family members as well. She also probably makes more sense.

The Other Animals In The Neighborhood

The only interaction that Molly has with any of the other animals in my neighborhood is with Honey, the Boxer that lives next door.

I always take Molly out on a leash and Honey is pretty much allowed to roam free. Honey has an underground dog fence but as she is charging thru it, she shrugs off any jolt that it might give her with a couple of yelps like she has been stung by a bee.

Honey comes bounding over and tries to make friends with Molly but Molly is normally not too receptive. They chase each other around the yard, usually in circles, with me as the fulcrum. They'll stop chasing each other long enough to go nose-to-nose, a brief stare down will ensue, followed by more chasing until they get tired or dizzy or I get dizzy and put a stop to it.

Molly sees any other dog while we are out and about or from the window of the house, she goes absolutely ballistic. She saw a white cat creeping along the edge of the woods this morning and Molly was very vociferous in her displeasure that a cat would be on her turf. This is Molly's World. She is definitely not happy that other animals are in it.

Can Your Dog Talk?

I have been out of work the past three weeks because of my foot and the only "person" I have around to talk to during the day (and the night as well) is my dog Molly. Today I will swear she started talking back.

This morning I had been on the phone with my doctor's office and the short-term disability people trying to get that situation straightened out (it still isn't) and a few other situations have developed that really do not even involve me but literally showed up on my doorstep anyway. I started voicing my complaints to Molly as she was napping on the bed.

She raised her head, listened to me intently for several minutes, and I will swear she said "F--- 'em!" and yawned real big, rolled over, and went back to her nap.

There was an intense meaning behind what Molly said. She was saying I cannot control the actions of others but I can control how I respond. Responding in a negative way will only reinforce the negativity of the situation and I should just let it ride. For better or worse, things will work out. Molly is a genius.

Another Storm

Another storm last night and Molly wanted to make sure I didn't miss it. The weather.gov webpage predicted severe storms during the night and I had told some friends of mine that it was probably going to be a sleepless night for me. I was right.

Snoopy of Peanuts fame always started his novel out "It was a dark and stormy night...." Molly woke me up about Midnight to tell me that it was happening. I can't say I blame her because it was a good one. The thunder bothers her more than anything and it was really shaking the house last night. That dog could not get close enough to me and at one point was halfway laying on top of me. Molly is not a small dog any more thanks to her "winter weight" that she hasn't had a chance to shed yet. I hated getting mad at her but all I wanted to do was to go back to sleep and I finally got her to settle down beside me. We managed to settle down and sleep thru the rest of it, at least I did. She really didn't even want to go outside this morning but we survived another one.

Follow The Leader

When we are in the house, Molly follows me wherever I go. I am by nature, a very hyper person and I go from room-to-room-to-room. Unless its Molly's bedtime, she follows me to every room. Every once in a while she will lay in the middle of the floor in one of my main passageways until I finally land somewhere and she is convinced that I am going to stay there for a while.

When we are outside, I have a tendency to follow Molly around like I have a choice. I have got her hooked to the leash and she is determined that she is going to go smell the recently pee'd on bush or mailbox post or chase the occasional rabbit. Sometimes she just likes to slow down and watch the world go by until the latest smell catches her attention. Its all good because my best friend is by my side.

The Sock Thief

Ever since Molly was a puppy, she has had a fascination with socks. If I was sorting my laundry, she would race over, grab one of my socks, and go tearing through the house with it. If I didn't immediately chase her, she would come back, stand in front of me, and shake the hell out of it (I always refer to it as her "kill" move), and dare me to get it from her.

It didn't take me long to figure out that it was the thrill of the chase for her. That would be me chasing her. If it was one of my good socks, I would try a little bit harder to get it back from her without her tearing holes in it. If it was one of my old, ratty socks, a healthy tug-of-war/wrestling match would ensue.

Since Molly and I are a bit older now, the daily sock fights grew further and further apart and eventually turned into a bi-weekly event. Now they hardly happen at all.

Yesterday I was surprised when Molly came to me with one of my socks in her mouth and wanted to play. I chased for a few minutes and then we wrestled and a good time was had by all. All two of us. We both had to take a nap shortly afterwards. We are not as young as we used to be.

When Molly brought me the sock yesterday, I was really depressed and down in the dumps. I have had a tough stretch lately but Molly always seems to know when I need a "pick me up" and she does whatever she has to provide it. Sometimes its a soft nuzzle of the nose, sometimes she'll crawl up and lay beside me, and other times its a walk in the woods or the neighborhood. She just always seems to know. A dog is truly mans best friend.

Molly the Mail Carrier

Molly has always been obsessed with burying her dog biscuits. Usually it is either behind or underneath the couch cushions. She will gently place them in between the cushions and start patting the treat down with her nose. She likes to use whatever is within her nose's reach to pack down on top of the treat to make sure it is properly buried. It is usually some type of clothing or the couch pillows.

Yesterday she found a new packing material of choice. I had gone out and picked up the daily mail and it was nothing but fast food coupons and sales flyers so when I came in the front door, I just tossed it on the couch. I gave Molly her daily supply of dog biscuits a short time later and went into my computer room to watch TV (it was the opening day of baseball season).

Molly immediately went to work burying her treats using the mail to bury them with. She tore the mail to shreds packing the treats down. Its too bad I didn't give her the monthly bills to use. When I walked back into the living room during the 7th inning stretch, she was standing there admiring her work and her ingenuity for using what was available to her. She does do quality work and its a good thing I do not eat at Jack In the Box.