My Sister’s dog Molly at 8 years old. The most gentle, loving beast you could ever come across. No snatching food, chasing any of the four cats and she’ll only give a single “woof” if the doorbell rings.
She occasionally returns to “puppy mode”, however, and will gallop round the house. If you chase her, she’ll dive under the coffee table in the living room, an interesting feat because she’s about a foot bigger than the space. She also makes a great footrest if you’re in the chair, reading. Shoes off, though.
This summer she turned into Ninja Stealth Dog while the deck was being rebuilt. The construction resulted in numerous gaps with access to the neighbourhood and, although she was watched like a hawk, she still managed to slip under our radar and make the big bid for freedom. Accusations flew, namely, “I thought you were watching her!”, then the doorbell would ring and a neighbour would be there, along with a “smiling” Molly.
The completion of the deck put an end to her escapes, although every time she goes out into the yard, she first checks to see if my nephew has left the gate open. If her way is barred, she returns to the deck and throws herself down accompanied by big sighs and reproachful looks.
Oh, and don’t take off her kerchief unless you have a clean one to replace it immediately.
She’s come a long way from being entertained by a mere stick and a puddle.
Cornwall, Ontario, Canada
Sony Alpha 700, Sigma 17 to 70 at 45 mm
iso 400, multi-pattern metering, F4.5, 1/15 second