I’m happy to report that she’s happy as a clam, putting on weight and spending her days napping under the deck in Westwood Hills.

I actually had a crazy incident back in my loft this past Friday night.. I walked in (after having left for one minute to grab my laptop bag from my car) and I found a man in my apartment. I’m safe, and my friend (who was in the bathroom!) is safe, but I wish Molly had been there. Though it’s more likely that she would have walked up to him and eyed him for a scratch behind the ears, I feel if he’d seen her there, he wouldn’t have gotten as far into my apartment as he did. She’s a gentle soul, but she’s showing signs of being a large fluffy dog again, and probably would have made him think otherwise.

Nonetheless, I’m off to a dear Uncle’s funeral tomorrow, so D will be her kind guardian until I return on Wednesday. We had a nice walk last evening.. taking her around the neighborhood. She has her ears up, a fresh coat, and is looking pretty darn cute. Will post photos soon!

The lunch? Tuna fish. Seriously. A can of tuna, a spoonful of relish and a wee bit o’ Miracle Whip.

After I sat down to watch a bit of Food Network with my lunch, the Old Girl was standing there panting, looking at my bowl. She wagged her tail when I offered her a very, teeny tiny small lick, and then practically dove, nose first, into the bowl. Ha! I was laughing so hard that I almost tipped the bowl over, because a) she’s never been that assertive and b) it was pretty darn cute to see this dog with tunafish on her nose.

Aww, Moll. Such a mystery you are.

For those of you who are wondering.. there are actually recipes out there for tuna for doggies.
http://puppydogsplus.com/healthy-cooking-recipes/tuna-fry-in-a-flash/

And I know, for all of you avid dog lovers, tuna contains mercury. Mercury isn’t good for dogs, so I’ll try to avoid these kind of instances in the future.

We’ve spent a few days back in the loft, so that I can get my life better organized there, and so she is sheltered from the recent rainstorms that continue to come through KC. She seems to be doing good– back napping on her orthopedic mat, and enjoying walks in the River Market.

I continue to learn little things about Miss Molly– like how she really wags her tail around D, and only slightly wags her tail around me, how she LOVES when I get the leash out, and how, when she doesn’t feel like she’s had enough petting, she’ll ‘paw’ you for more. She does have a nice little horse-like romp that she does every so often, which warms my heart.

Will she ever be a high-strung dog? Unlikely, she’s really too old. What I wouldn’t mind seeing, though, is a wee bit more playfulness from her. Perhaps it was beaten out of her by her past owner, or perhaps she’s just a ‘down in the dumps’ kind of dog. Or, perhaps, she’s so freaking blind that she can’t really see anyone, so what is there to react to, really?

She’s a darn good dog. When it’s all said and done, I know I’ve done a good thing by giving this girl another month of good living. I’m hoping that it continues as long as it can.

Apparently, she’s curious about her new hood. A walk around the ‘hood is long overdue… I owe my girl at least that.  That way, if she does it again, I’m hoping she sniffs her way back.

Hmm… maybe this is how she got lost in the woods in the first place?

My dear dog Molly has settled in to another routine at D’s house, enjoying the outdoors and napping under the deck with vigor. She walks, she naps, she drinks water, and she hangs out and smiles at the squirrels.   She seems to be a happy dog. She even made it through a whole day inside without one accident (good girl!)

And yet, I haven’t yet found the right concoction of food to get her to gain more weight.

I’ve had her for one month tomorrow, and she’s still at least 10-15 pounds underweight. And this dog STILL turns her nose away from food. Seriously. She lifts the pieces she doesn’t like out of the food bowl and eats the rest. And if the pieces she doesn’t like are mashed in, forget it, “she’d rather starve to death than eat that.”  (Ironic, for a dog that was lifted from a creekbed 4th of July weekend.)

Perhaps she’s worried about her old girl figure. Perhaps I’m not feeding her in the matter to which she was once accustomed. Perhaps she was raised up on lamb stew and fresh beef bourbignon. Maybe she’s a (gasp!) vegetarian.  Or, perhaps she enjoyed that $3 dollar can of organic dog food from Brookside Barkery so much, that she refuses to ever go back to, god forbid, a $.69 can of Pedigree Country Stew.  Forgive me, dear reader,  but @*(^!!!

Maybe, to her, the basmati rice, ground beef and organic dog food concoction that I cooked for her two weeks ago (cooked for her, mind you, because she had just returned from an overnight in the kennel) is just like drinking a $50 bottle of Cakebread Chardonnay. Now that she’s had her fix, returning to a can of Pedigree is like peeling open a box of Franzia White Zinfandel. Once you have your first taste of the good stuff, it makes it impossible to ever go back.

Aie yay yay. I’ve become a personal chef to a 12-14 year old shepherd/lab mix.  I’m not complaining, I think ya’ll know that I’m head over heels for this dog.  But cheesy peets, Molly. Finicky? You’d think you’d just Hoover everything in sight!

Admittedly, I’m a foodie, and now apparently I’m a mother to a foodie dog.

We walked at 6:30, Pant. Pant. Pant. 8:00, Pant. Pant. Pant. 9:45 Pant. Pant. Pant. and again at 11:00 p.m.! Pant. Pant. Pant.  She swung by my bed around 12:45 a.m, to pant, loudly,  in my face, so I put my earplugs in and rolled over. Goodness gracious.

Normally she gets a nap in somewhere in there… but not last night. Two shots of rescue remedy straight under her tongue didn’t even cut it. (This was fascinating to me, by the way. So much for that $10 investment.)

I need to remind myself that I am the alpha in this situation.

You just have to wonder how LONG she was out there fending for herself in the wilderness. Maybe she just got used to it after a while, so therefore she no longer likes to be inside.  Or, she’s fading into her December years, and would prefer to be outside, just in case it’s her time to to doggie heaven. And yes, All dogs go to heaven. I refuse to think otherwise.

She does like being a part of the ‘pack’, it’s obvious, but I wonder if we’re too boring for her. Perhaps she’d prefer to watch the squirrels and leaves then be cooped up inside.  D insists she’d love having a cat around… I kind of disagree, I think it would just annoy her.

One other milestone. I nearly got a lick on the nose last night. I was on the floor petting her, and she put her nose directly up to mine and sniffed a bit, almost giving me a lick, but not quite. I practically burst into tears.

She likes me. 

Back to my loft tonight. I’ll bet she’ll pitch a fit about loft living and miss her pine tree.  Ah well… I need to get some ‘life’ stuff done at my place!

Thunderstorms rolled in, which led to Molly panting, which led to me letting her out before the raindrops, and her tearing back in the house shortly afterwards. Pretty cute.  She’s getting the hang of this.

At 6:45, it was a downpour, but I knew Molly had to go again.  I grabbed her leash, but didn’t have an umbrella… so I literally grabbed one of D’s moving boxes, put it on my head, and took her out into the rain.  (Please, don’t laugh too hard at that sentence.)  Man, she didn’t appreciate that, but I was outside, in a downpour, with a box on my head…. she was going to go to the bathroom, I don’t care how long it took!   Finally, she went, and then went tearing back into the dry garage. 

D insisted I leave her at his house today and not take her to doggie daycare and avoid spending money. I just hope she has just one mess and not a whole bunch of old-girl-accidents. Aie.

Molly’s also tearing through food now, which makes me so happy. Then again, I have practically become her personal chef. She’s getting ground beef, basmati rice, and $3 a can dog food. Her weekly food budget is now more expensive than my own weekly food budget! I’m not complaining at all… I am happy to give the girl whatever she wants to eat. My only issue is that she’s avoiding kibble, which could help fill in the cracks and get some meat sticking to her bones. Any other frugal ideas out there, I’d certainly appreciate!

I’m thinking she wants to become a full-time resident at D’s house. He’s made the offer, but she and I are really getting into a good groove and quite frankly, I’d really miss the sweet girl! It’s something to ponder, however, as summertime slips away. 

Gave Molly a bath last night, the first one in my loft tub. I’m not sure if she has a ‘mad’ face, but I think I saw a glimmer of it last night. One of those “Aw, c’mon. Really? You REALLY want to pour water on me?”  Afterwards though, we ran (yes, ran!)  through my loft together, in an effort to dry her off, and she actually chased me a bit. It’s those steps that make this journey so worth it. I swear, I saw her smile.

Molly in a car ride...

Finally, check out the car-dog.  It’s kind of fun watching her ‘surf’ while I drive around town.  She’s getting there. She even allowed me 7.5 hours of sleep last night. Ahh….

Molly survived a few nights at the kennel this week (thank you, Kate’s Canine Resort!)  though she’s fairly bony again. It’s fair to say she likely didn’t eat the whole time she was there, due to stress. She’s turning her nose away from her food again, finicky little thing. Will be trying a few more options this week, perhaps a few new dog-food recipes in my own kitchen. She did chow down on some leftover chicken I had in the freezer. She has the apparent palate of Julia Child.

The good news is that I think she finally views me as her owner and companion. When I walk through the door these days, and when I can get her attention (she’s a bit deaf), she comes prancing down the hallway to see me, and there’s a bit of spring in her step. She gives me a few good tail wags and a few paws in my direction, as in ‘so good to see you! Let me shake your hand!’   She is a doll and has been enjoying her orthopedic bed.  Good girl.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Molly’s history… how she got to the creekbed. Who was her family prior to me? What kind of home did she have? Who on earth lost her or dumped her? Who could do that to her?  As far as I can tell, she doesn’t seem to have any behavioral issues, other than some old-girl-accidents, as I’m calling them.  Why would someone just leave a dog to fend for herself?  I think there’s a special place for those people, and it’s not a good place, either.

Needless to say, Molly is a survivor and I admire her for being so. Having had a year full of challenging life experiences myself, I can relate to her ‘I’m going to pick myself up and dust myself off’ attitude. I am so grateful that she and I have found each other, for however long that might be.  Miss Molly and I are pretty similar too, in that we’ve taken our fair share of hits, but no matter what, we have friends and family who love us, and who stand behind us as we find our way home.