MOLLY REPORT

It occurred to me that with all of the political talk and talk about the virus and lack of food and medicines, that maybe I would lighten it up with a Molly report. For those who don’t know or are just tuning in, Molly is my dog. Molly turned 8 this January and people who know and love Labradors all say, that’s about the time in their life when they start behaving. No sign of that yet from Molly but one can only hope, can’t they.

Molly is a hunting breed although the only thing I know for sure that she hunts for, is food, mischief and a good place to sleep. That sleep can be on the couch that she is not allowed on, or in my bed with her head on the other pillow staring at me and emitting the breath of a buzzard. Sometimes when she is overcome with emotion, It’s in my lap, in my recliner. She doesn’t get in your lap gracefully but prefers to leap there when you least expect it. Like right through the newspaper and sending both of us over backwards with the recliner on top of us.

Molly had an itching problem and they thought---they the vet—it might be a food allergy. So, I put her on a fish-based food with sweet potatoes. I told you about her bad breath. This dog food when you open the bag smells like Milorganite. For those of you not familiar with it, Milorganite it is a fertilizer that is refined from human waste. It comes from Milwaukee and I am not sure that’s where they get the human waste from but it is the beer capital of the Midwest. The dog food is not that far removed, from the original scent of human waste. Maybe because dogs love to roll in human waste she thinks she is smelling pretty inside and out. I don’t know but she loves the food and by the way, she’s still scratching.

I told you she was a hunting breed and loves to chase squirrels. In eight years, she has never come close to catching one, although she did get a chipmunk. To be fair she was sleeping on the porch and the chipmunk thinking she was a fixture and not a dog tried to run over the top of her and practically ran into her mouth. It was not a good ending for the chipmunk. Her other selected prey is rabbits and in Arizona where I winter there is no shortage of rabbits. So last January, Pat and I took the dogs for a walk on leashes, which by the way she hates and she went after a rabbit that ran behind me, pulling me over backwards onto a rocky trail and breaking my hip. So, when you see me limping along, think of good old Molly. I know I do. 

Molly has a tattoo on her belly. It says “do not resuscitate.” I’m kidding of course. She means the world to me. I am an old man living by himself and lots of old people turn to pets for companionship. They’re not to replace the people that have left your life. They are companionship to you in a world that despite the amount of people in it, can be a lonely place for many of them. I will be 80 next year and Molly 9. We just might cross that rainbow bridge 

together. I look around me at all of the hate and dissension that is in this world. All of the people who seem to get up angry every morning and go to bed angry each night. I sometimes say to myself, “Why can’t we all have the demeaner of a Molly.” Molly gets up every day and says to herself, “Why am I so happy today? “Then she smiles and says, because it’s a big wide beautiful world I live in and today-- I’m going to make the most of it.” How many  people do you know like that?