Molly

Once upon a time we got a lab.

We'd been talking about it forever, you know, the classic talk that goes on for a year about what kind of dog mostly. Then this fall, I should have known one was coming because my husband said, (the night before he got it) "I don't think we should get a dog."

The next day, he "went hiking" and then "got back really early" and we went about our day with friends only to arrive home late in the day to a darling six week old yellow lab. When he opened the door to reveal him on her arm, he said, "Meet Daisy."

Fast forward to now, we have settled on another name, found a vet, and lived almost two months with a puppy companion in our midst. She has quadrupled in size. She is basically toilet trained. With one swipe of the foot she lets us know via the sliding glass door if she needs to go out. She can sit, lay down, shake, wave, speak, and wait. She sleeps in her crate at night and whines to pee early in the am, about 6am.

She hangs in her "pen" in the garage when we're gone during the day, without too much fuss, though I know she'd rather be with her pack. She LOOOOVES her pack. And the best thing about her? The way she greets me when I come in the room, with such tail wags and tiny love grunts. I feel loved.

She is the best.