Blog Superlative #5 - Most likely to have been written by someone with a more serious, caring personality. (Please tell me you don't believe that.) :)
(Also known as the post of which I am most proud.)
Not for the writing. Not for the cause (although I am a proud supporter of the cause). Simply because it is the only thing I've ever written about Molly, my heart dog for 15 years. :)
Original publish date: March 15, 2011
In honor of Petfinder's 15th birthday today, I give you my favorite story about my (dearly departed) rescue girl, Molly -- a hound mix who had intellectual prowess.
~ For my husband, who thought he was smarter.
Despite my loud protesting, Molly slept on the floor next to my side of the bed at night. The husband -- being raised in a family whose pet dogs were limited to outdoor living arrangements -- had planted his foot firmly down on the matter. The bed was a dog-free zone. Period. Now since it was my idea to adopt Molly in the first place, leaving the hubby with literally no choice in the matter, I relented to the spouse's request. Molly would sleep on the floor -- that is until we devised a plan.
Our new rental -- a little WWII-era cape cod with a big fenced-in yard -- didn't lend itself well to modern conveniences -- like functional kitchens, closet space or master bedrooms. So each weekday morning the hubby -- who was first to rise -- gathered his belongings and made his way into our one bathroom-with-a-shower off the hallway. It wasn't long after we moved into this house that the both of us (Molly and I) figured out that the hubby's bathroom disappearances meant a good 15 to 20 minutes in which to sneak some much-desired mattress snuggle time. In fact, it didn't take long before Molly recognized the sound of the creaky bathroom door pulling to as her cue to jump up on the bed. She also figured out the precise moment in which she should get back into her own bed -- as if she had never left it in the first place.
I'm not sure what exactly tipped the hubby off to our conspiracy. Maybe he heard the > t h u d < of Molly's 64-pound frame hitting the floor. Or maybe it was that ring of black hair that never seemed to "wash off" my side of the sheets. Well, at any rate, he caught on to us and shortly later gave us a good "talking-to".
So the next morning we were smarter.
This time not only did Molly wait for the creaky bathroom door to pull to, but she waited for the shower to turn on, thus drowning out any sounds that might have given her bedside movement away. And better still, we (Molly and I) had agreed that she would get back on her bed immediately after the shower shut off. It was a fool-proof plan. (Or so we thought.)
I have to give the hubby credit in that he's not completely gullible. Maybe it was the fact that despite his repeated requests that Molly never set paws on the bed, I had stopped trying to persuade him otherwise. After all I had proven to him over and over again that I was no shrinking violet, and furthermore, I was a nag. My uncharacteristic lack of nagging had surely tipped him off.
That one morning, just as she had been doing for weeks, Molly waited until she heard the familiar sound of the shower and then hopped up on the bed beside me. Not five seconds later, however, the bathroom door flew open and out burst the hubby with a loud, "AH HA! I caught you, you sneaky mutt!" So she slithered off the bed like the Grinch on Christmas Eve and we both lie there silently in temporary humiliation.
So the next morning we were smarter. Correction. Molly was smarter.
When the shower finally turned on we both looked at each other and decided it was just too risky to try. If the hubby had fooled us once, he was sure to try it again. So we waited. And waited a little longer. And when it seemed like just enough time had passed, she stood up, crept out of the room and down the short hall -- stopping just shy of the bathroom door. (It was then that I knew I had adopted the smartest hound on the face of the earth.) Then, with the grace of a long-necked swan, she peeked through the small opening of the bathroom door, confirmed that the hubby was in fact in the shower, and then trotted back for 10 minutes of mommy mattress time.
Several days later I broke down and told the hubby what had transpired that morning (and every weekday morning thereafter). Naturally, he consented to us adding weekends. :)
See the photo up in the left-hand corner? Her name is Kayla and she -- along with several other sweet dogs like her -- is looking for a forever home with help from the Henrico (Virginia) Humane Society. Why not go check her sweetness out, or tell someone about her?
Editor's note: I'm happy to report that Kayla was adopted (although, most likely not thanks to me - but, that's just fine!).
And that, folks, is the last of the superlatives! :) And the end of my kid-free posting binge. (Back to the real world for me.)
If you have a blog of your own, do you have any blog superlatives that you'd like to share? Then go do it!