Clean Molly

Sweet Molly is a Schnauzer/Cocker Spaniel cross we bought several years ago. I wanted a “lap dog,” and our pit bull, Bambi, was too big for that even when he was a puppy. Molly was going to be my sweet, lady-like, cuddly lap dog. She had a bubbly personality that offset our serious pit bull nicely. She acted a fool and made him laugh. She brightened up the whole family.

I got part of what I wanted. She is a good lap dog, though she’s a bit too large and heavy. We spend a good amount of time cuddling in my recliner and she does make all of us laugh. She didn’t get the memo about ‘sweet’ and ‘lady-like,’ though.

Her hunting skills put Bambi to shame. She runs all over the yard nose to the ground in patterns only she can appreciate. She sticks her nose into holes or anywhere she smells something interesting. She loves to pretend she’s super-brave – barking like a fiend when she thinks she’s on the trail. We can readily tell if she’s found something above her pay grade, though. Her bark changes to a high-pitched, ‘somebody help me’ bark. We all run to her aid, including Bambi, who then dispatches possums or other weird critters Molly has uncovered.

Lately Molly has come in covered from nose to tail with burrs. They’re little bitty and stick badly to her hair. The last few days she’s come in with a totally black, wet, burr-covered muzzle, similarly covered feet, and burrs all over. It has taken me about half an hour with a comb to get all the burrs out. She is not a happy camper.

We took her to be groomed this morning. I asked the groomer to ‘sheer her like a sheep’ short all over. The groomer would prefer to leave wonderful, cute ‘eyebrows,’ longer hair on her ears,  and a mustache, but I have to tell her no. SHE is not the one who has to bathe the dog at least every other day, or get the burrs out while Molly acts as if I’m torturing her. She is much happier, and much easier to repair when she looks like this. We call her “Sleek Molly,” or “Summer Molly” this time of year.