While I was recuperating from foot surgery and being held "prisoner" in my house for 8 1/2 weeks by piss poor short-term disability payments (I couldn't afford to go anywhere), I had to turn to Molly to be my Therapist. She was all my health insurance would pay for.
Molly is a great listener. I talked to her more than I did anybody. When I am talking to her, she arches her eyebrows, and her ears stand at attention, and her eyes get that understanding look that you can only get when she feels what I am telling her. She hangs on my every word no matter how mundane or trivial it is.
Mollys prescription for my mental health was long, stress-reducing walks around the neighborhood and thru the woods (of course we had to throw in a rabbit chase for her once in a while), and relaxing, rejuvenating naps in the afternoon to recharge our batteries. Molly also suggested I quit my job but I can't quite go that far yet. She enjoys her morning dog treats too much for me to take that drastic step.
Although I am not completely cured, Molly feels I am ready to go back to work even though I believe she will miss the time we spent together. I will miss it as well.
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