I’ve never had children, but, I imagine that walking into Molly’s side yard is a lot like any parent walking into their teenager’s room; holes dug everywhere, dirt all over the place, and strewn with shredded pieces of plants, paper, and old toys.

Today Molly asked me, “Daddy, why do you call me ‘Molly’?”

“I can’t really say. Don’t you like that name?”

“Is ‘Molly’ a good name?” She countered.

“Sure. Yes. I think ‘Molly’ is a good name.”

“It’s just that, at the dog park there’s Puffin, and Lola, and Parker, Yukon, Mr. D, and two Bens. There’s even a ‘Holly’. But there are no other Molly’s." She looked thoughtful, "At the shelter they called me ‘Maya’, and my best friend was Flower. Are those good names?”

“Sure. Those are fine names. But I don’t really see you as ‘Maya’.”

“I don’t seem ‘Maya’?”

“When I met you, I thought you looked like ‘Molly’, and I still do. Don’t you think the name ‘Molly’ suits you?”

“It suits me. I just wanted to make sure it was a good name.”

“It’s the perfect name for you.”

This morning while taking Molly for a walk, I asked her why it is that after she pees, she often turns around and sniffs it.

She told me she has to smell-check her posts.

 

Molly and I finished watching the Inauguration.

I said to her, "The world is a better place now."

She just smiled and closed her eyes.

As Molly sat on the rug, chewing on a Nylabone, I asked her, “What is it about those things that you enjoy chewing on them so much?”

“Well daaarrrdy,” she failed to enunciate around the chew toy, “oou killth somethimg, theng youth givv me the bonhnhth.”

“Huh?”

Clearing her mouth, she repeated, “you kill something, then you give me the bone to chew on. It’s nice.”

“Well, you know that they’re not really bones, right? They’re just some kind of plastic. I didn’t actually kill anything.”

“Wait… what???”

“It’s not really a bone. It’s plastic.”

She dropped the Nylabone, “It’s plastic!?!?!”

“Yes, it’s plastic.”

“All this time you’ve been giving me fake bones?!? You haven’t been out hunting, and you didn’t give me a bone from your kill????”

“Yeah, I order them online.”

She stood up and started to walk away.

“Wait. Where are you going? You seem to like them so much, so I gave you more.”

“I’m not talking to you.” She said without turning.

“Oh, come on Mol…”

“I’m not talking to you.” Getting farther away she said, “You see, this is what it looks like when I’m not talking to you.”

Oh, fur Pete's sake. No good deed goes unpunished.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, dah!” Molly, just back from a hike, was shouting as she bounded up the stairs, completely out of breath. She skidded to a halt in my office. “Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, guess what!” Needless to say, she didn’t give me time to ask “what”, let alone guess. “Today…”, breathing hard, “on the walk…” she tried to collect herself, but was too excited, “…on the walk… Nero, threw up!” She put her paws on my desk. “And, and Jason had us all lie down, but Betty kept going over any trying to eat it, so Jason had to keep on stopping and dragging Betty back, and Nero kept on puking!”

“Wow, Molly. Is Nero OK?”

“Huh? Oh, sure, he’s fine. He just drank that slimy water. We all told him not to, but you know Nero, he’s golden retriever. He’ll eat or drink anything! You don’t even need to dare him.”

“Well, actually, I don’t know Nero. How do you know the slimy water won’t hurt him?”

“Cause it’s just gooey water. No biggie.”

“Well, you know, some gooey water can have stuff in it that is dangerous.”

“Yeah, that’s what Jason kept telling us. And he kept on insisting on poking at Nero and feeling his tummy, and then Jason cut the walk short, and drove us all to the vet where he left Nero with his humans.”

“I know about that part.”

“What do you mean, ‘you know’? You weren’t there.”

“Well, I didn’t know exactly what happened, but Jason texted me. He said that one of your pack got sick, and so you were going to be late coming home.”

“Wow. You can do that!?!?”

“Yup.”

“You can talk to Jason while we are out on a walk?”

“Yes. Sure.”

“Huh. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“Well, it’s important that Jason be able to reach me if there is a problem of any kind. Anyway, let’s get you a treat.”

“A treat, a treat, a treat, a treat, a treat, a treat!” She shouted as she went skidding off to the kitchen.

I sure hope she calms down soon. Sigh.

“Hey Molly, you’ve been kinda quiet lately.”

“Yeah, I know. Between the holidays, the Georgia runoff election, and the madness in Washington, my head is spinning. Its all so much, I can’t get my thoughts connected.”

“Yeah. I hear you, kiddo. I hear you.”

This morning I asked Molly if she had slept like a dog.

“I think the expression is 'slept like a log', daddy.” She said. “I don’t think you can use a simile to compare a thing to itself. Asking a dog if she slept like a dog is kinda like asking a cow if it gave milk like a cow, or a car if it drove like a car.”

“Good lord!” I was stunned. “When did you start considering the intricacies of English?”

“I ate a book called Word Power Made Easy.”

“Is that where that went.” I sighed. “Molly, please don’t eat my books.”

“Oooops.”