Where do I start with you? Your ability to change even non-dog loving people into (at the very least) Molly-lovers is amazing.
Your quiet demeanour and sweet nature make you instantly loveable. Anybody who doesn’t melt when they look at your smiling face clearly has no soul. I admire your enthusiasm for EVERYTHING (which is why your name tag says “Molly!“), your ability to accept change without fear, and your desire to make friends with every dog and person you meet.
You make me laugh constantly. Your funny faces, ears that seem to have a mind of their own, and your little butt that wiggles when you’re happy melt my heart. And who knew one dog could find so many interesting ways to sleep on one chair?
You have always been so curious about the world – even as a puppy you were constantly picking up things from the ground and bringing them inside. I lost count of the number of times I had to pull a twig, or rock, or beer bottle cap from your mouth after a quick outing to the park. Even now your nose is always to the ground taking everything in.
I also love that YOU love to get dirty – you are always the first one to jump in the snow, in the mud, or in the lake. I have countless images of you sleeping in the dirt in the summer to keep cool. You remind me that it’s not always necessary to be pristine to be cute.
I’m pretty sure that you are my own personal angel, sent here to remind me to chill the fuck out sometimes. You have been an absolute perfect, low maintenance, sweet dog, and you have managed to double the love in my heart – and the love in my life.
You are an amazing dog. I want nothing more than to see you happy for the rest of your life. I don’t know what your life was like before you came to me – I only know that it was neglectful and stressful, and I can’t even imagine how anyone could even think of not loving you as much as you give love.
Our bond was immediate and I loved that you seemed to trust me right away – not even hesitating to jump in the truck for the first ride home and promptly falling asleep in the front seat. You were a bit beat up, thin and emaciated with droopy skin and a very noticeable scar on your leg but I still think you were beautiful. It’s been amazing to watch you go from a sickly looking dog to show dog material in only a matter of months – all you needed to thrive was a proper diet, and a little bit of love.
I’ve loved watching you come out of your shell and slowly show your true silly self – from a somewhat shy and reserved dog to the silly girl that has no problem throwing her own toys for a game of chase if nobody else feels like playing. I love that you would put my life before yours without hesitation – and I’m reminded of the first night when you stepped in front of me, barking, to warn off a strange man who wanted to ask for directions.
I’m sad that you have issues with other dogs. I don’t know where it stems from, but I can only guess that it comes from living in a stressful environment for most of your life. My wish is that you could learn to trust other dogs and be able to play with them the same way you play with me – you could be such a good playmate for other dogs if you could overcome your fear and aggression and I would love to see you able to run with other dogs without stress.
I want you to know that you have absolutely nothing to worry about anymore. You will always have food, water, and a warm place to sleep. You will always have love and affection and toys to occupy you. Nobody will ever hurt you again, or neglect you, or cause you pain or worry. You are safe.
Maybe I’m being presumptuous in wanting to bust out my sandals, but I feel like Winter is finally waning. I won’t be sad to see it go, as it really was a bunch of bullshit this year. The ice storm was cool until I lost power and I love that we got so much snow (only because 1. I have 4WD that makes driving in snow actually fun, and 2. I live in an apartment so I don’t have to shovel any driveway), but I hate when the snow melts and all the garbage and dog poop starts to show, and the freezing cold weather made a quick trip outside miserable. I think it was the bitter cold that pissed me off the most about this winter, I would have punched winter if I could have, right in it’s ugly bitch face.
(On a side note though, why do people insist on not cleaning up their dog’s poop? It’s gross. Yes, it’s not exactly pleasant picking it up either, but seriously people, pick up after your dog or don’t have one. Assholes.)
However, despite Winter being a bitch most of the time, I did manage to have a lot of fun with the dogs, as seen below:
My dog is a dick for ruining my snow heart for no reason. I still love her though.
Due to the chaos in my life I mostly retreated and spent a lot of time with my dogs (who do not argue with me or cause any drama) – thus this week I didn't take pictures of anything but dogs!
Images: ok possible I went a bit shutter happy this week but they're just so damn photogenic!
Time to introduce another man who has recently re-entered my life.
Mr. Mechanic is a man I met earlier in the year. We started talking because we have something pretty major in common: we both own two dogs. And not only that, but we also have the same breed/half-breed. I was so excited when I found this out because it’s really not that usual, and there is a certain understanding between dog owners that non-dog owners cannot understand.
Aside: for example, non dog owners could never understand the logistics of trying to barricade a garbage bin from a dog determined to get into the garbage. I told Mr. Mechanic of my efforts to leave the garbage bin on top of the kitchen counter before leaving for work, AND THEN barricading the kitchen counter with chairs and any other miscellaneous items I could find to keep Ruby away. His reply? “OH I’ve had my garbage barricaded since my oldest was a puppy (about 5 years).”
We also have a great deal more in common! For example, we both like to go off-roading and generally get muddy with our vehicles whenever possible. He likes trucks, I like trucks. He likes campfires, I like campfires. He likes beer, I like beer. While this all seems very trivial what it really comes down to is a cultural understanding that is lacking with the other men. Mr. Mechanic is white, born and raised in Canada. I am white, born and raised in Canada. While I love the cultural learning curve with the other men in my life, there is something to be said to know someone who just “gets it,” no explanations necessary. It’s refreshing.
We have only met once, when I made two horrible decisions: The first was to meet for the first time at the dog park in the middle of winter. It was freezing. The second was to answer Mr. Spice’s call while at the park with Mr. Mechanic and inadvertently invite him. That was awkward. Mr. Spice still asks about “that white guy with the dogs.”
Otherwise we have kept in touch via text fairly regularly, and this past weekend discussed getting together to do “white people” things, like BBQ’ing and swimming. I am excited to see where this goes!
– image: rottenecards
These are my kids. Whenever I'm all “I hate being single I'm never going to meet anyone I'm never going to have a kid I'm going to die old wrinkly and alone WAAAAAAAAH” they're just like “Don't worry mom, we will love you always.”