No More Pizza Crust

Last Sunday, I ordered Molly and me some Pizza Hut Pizza so we could enjoy some pizza and watch a little bit of NFL football. Molly lives for pizza crust. She sits at (or on) my feet and patiently waits on me to get done with the center part before I start breaking her off some crust. With our bellies full and my Seattle Seahawks going in the tank against the Miami Dolphins, Molly decided to take a nap. Within about 5 or 10 minutes, Molly was snoring beside me. Within a minute or so after that, I start smelling something that smelled like somebody had dropped a turd under my chair. I looked and Molly was still snoring and I quickly discovered that about every other snore, she farted. She farted for the rest of the night. At one point, I had to open up my sliding glass door and windows to air the place out. I went to bed kind of early and one of her farts smelled so bad, it woke me up and I searched the apartment because I knew she had taken a dump somewhere in that apartment. I never I did find anything. She is not getting any more pizza crust for a while.

The Stray Dog

Molly and I were taking our first walk of the morning this morning at about 4:30 AM when Molly caught the scent of something. I was thinking the bears and that was the first thing I looked for. We were near the mailboxes and I really wasn't paying attention until I looked up to see what Molly had caught the scent of and it was a dog laying under the bushes. He was just looking at us until Molly started towards him and then he took off. Molly normally would have started barking or woofing at him but she could tell something was immediately wrong with him. He was a cold and hungry stray that had tried to lay down and get some warmth under the bushes. He looked like a German Shepherd mix and he was looking at us like "I wish I had someone that would walk me on a leash." Even Molly felt a great amount of sympathy for him. My heart really went out to him but I never could locate him after that.

Da Bears

There was an old skit on Saturday Night Live in which George Wendt and some of his buddies were devout Chicago Bears fans but being Chicago-ites, it always came out "Da Bears!" About a week ago I was trying to take a nap one afternoon after work when some butthead is out in the parking lot honking his car horn. I get up thinking I am going to shove that car horn up somebody's ass. I go to my sliding glass door at my balcony and I see a Momma bear and her three cubs ambling through the apartment complex. One of our maintenance guys was honking his horn, trying to hurry them along. The bears were not really in that big of a hurry and I immediately thought "photo op!" I grab my camera and try sighting it in and I got some decent shots of the cubs as they ambled along. I was standing out on the balcony taking my pictures and Molly was standing beside me watching all of this. The funny thing was, Molly never made a sound. Not a whine, a woof, a bark. Nothing. I am sure Molly was thinking "Damn! That Momma bear is big. If I don't make a sound maybe she won't notice me." That is my Molly. Self preservation is the key.

Slowing Down

Molly and I are both really slowing down and it is quite obvious. Our age is catching up to us with the speed of light. Molly and I spend more time napping on the weekends than we do out taking walks now and it is really a sad thing to see and an even worse thing to experience. At least we are going down together. We nap together, we slowly amble down the sidewalk together, and we hurt together. Every once in a while we are rambunctious together and after that, we pay for it together. It would be just about the perfect dog-owner relationship if we could figure out how to go out of life together. I don't know if we can make it without each other.