Molly goes to Ikea and other stories...

Hi, Molly Mollster the guide dog puppy here. The last few weeks have been so busy I’ve barely had time to wag my tail let alone get the Wordsmith to take down dictation for my third blog. She and I are having a quiet day at home today though and I thought it was about time I put her nimble fingers to work on that keyboard; my puppy paws are far too specialised to do anything like typing. I’ve been using them for excavating the old fence post hole in the back yard and eating what I’ve dug up, then walking my dirty paws all over the stone carpet in the hallway (she calls it stone; I'd call it beige, but there you are) – honestly, it was like on that advert for that cleaning stuff on the moving screen.

We still can’t go out into the big wide outside world yet. The Wordsmith took me to something called a vet’s yesterday morning and Anneke stuck a needle in my neck and tried to get me to sit still on some baby scales (apparently, I’m in the region of 10kg – no wonder the Wordsmith has trouble picking me up these days!). I heard the humans talking about when I’d be able to safely walk on pavements and it’s another week before I can do that. Poor Wordsmith is nearly going round the twist but that’s nothing to how I feel. Imagine you’re a proud canine, but the only places you are allowed to go are human places; life just isn’t fair. I know the layout of Waitrose like the back of my paw now and like to have a lie down where the frozen food is if I can, just to be awkward. Word gets round all the staff whenever I go in and they all stand around and coo as I sashay around the aisles.

We went somewhere called Kelham Island Industrial Museum last week. It was full of machines making lots of noise but none of them could compare to the River Don Engine (pictured right) – once they started that up, it felt like the noise was coming up through the floor! I took it all in my stride though. To be honest, I’m more concerned about the vacuum cleaner thing once that starts prowling around the house with its turbo snake's head, sucking up everything in sight. And ever since that washing machine made lots of magazines fall on my water bowl when it was going its 1400 rpm spin, I take myself off to my kennel as soon as it starts taking in water (along with a sock or a pair of knickers if I can get hold of anything before she shoves it all in the monster’s mouth and shuts the door).

I've been to Meadowhall shopping centre a couple of times now; the Wordsmith is complaining that taking me out is costing her money! She went to somewhere called Lakeland and while she was looking at some clothes brushes (apparently my fur is 'getting everywhere'), I made a puddle on the floor. It wasn't the Wordsmith's fault; she had tried to get me to go in the car park, but I was more interested in the chewing gum and other goodies on the ground that I couldn't concentrate. Anyway, she came out nearly £50 poorer but then went for a coffee to recover and I was simply adored by everyone. This is me in my harness all ready to go home after my big day out!

Somewhere else we went last week was a big Scandinavian shop called Ikea. The Wordsmith has been wanting to go to the one in Sheffield since it opened last year but had never got round to it and she decided it would be a nice trip out for me. So, on went my car harness and off we drove. I took a while to get from the car park into the shop. Well, I’d been comfortable on the back seat and it was a long way from the parent and baby place the Wordsmith had parked up in and I needed lots of rests. She’s taken to pretending I’m a human child, I think. She finds it easier to be in a parent and child space so she can fiddle about with the seatbelt and spend 10 minutes persuading me to jump out of the car door while I sit there taking it all in and assessing whether I think it's worth getting my paws dirty.

Ikea turned out to be a Big Adventure. The Wordsmith went to the café first and got some Swedish meatballs for her lunch – it seems there’s a human law that requires this whenever you go to one of these shops. I’d found some gherkin on the floor on her way from the food service area to the checkout and she was struggling with the lead in one hand and the tray of meatballs and chips in the other, when out of nowhere, some other people like her (‘puppywalkers’, they call themselves) came and whisked the tray out of her hands, fetched her some water and escorted her to an empty table in a quiet part of the restaurant. Wordsmith was SO relieved, I could tell, so I just lay under the table and let her eat her lunch in peace before we set off round the store.

Now, I don’t know how many of you have been to an Ikea but this place was HUGE. We kept following the arrows and were going round and round and up and down until I just couldn’t hold my bladder any more. It all happened so quickly, poor Wordsmith just had time to throw some tissue down on the puddle before I walked all through it then she called for help. Well, they don’t refer to me as an Andrex puppy for nothing. I had hold of that wee-soaked kitchen paper in no time and started shaking it around for all my little life was worth. We’d only just recovered from that episode when I found I couldn’t wait for my other ‘busy busy’ and, without even being asked, I’d left a rather large pile on the concrete floor. The Wordsmith had to stand over it whilst she searched in her bag for something to pick it up with, and I noticed a young lad ask if she was alright and could he help … I think he thought she was responsible for what she was guarding between her feet. Poor Wordsmith; luckily the Ikea people were very kind to her and told her they’d send a cleaner although she’d pretty much left things as she’d found them. Whoops! I think she’d better remember that it takes a long time to get round Ikea if we go again! (Total spend at Ikea was better than Meadowhall; £4 for a cushion pad. At that price, I'm sure she wouldn't mind me having a play with that!)

I feel like a celebrity when I’m out. I get so much attention. I love it, and respond with lots of licks and sometimes by even showing my belly. I don’t think the Wordsmith finds it quite so appealing, though. Last Saturday evening, she decided to take me to a Bevox choir concert at the Octagon in Sheffield. We went down in the car so I didn’t have to put paws to pavement, and when we arrived at the venue, it was like I was the star of the show. People were even taking pictures of me! So many friendly humans, but the Wordsmith wasn’t very enamoured with the lady sitting next to her. She told her that if her daughter had been there in the same place as me she’d be all out in a rash. I think the Wordsmith thought this was a bit irrelevant and even rather rude; I was a bit upset at the idea anyone could do anything other than adore me. Anyway, the Wordsmith took me out to feed me before the end of the first half and we moved to 2 separate chairs at the back of the hall for the second half. We left in the middle of a soloist doing not a bad job of These Boots were made for Walking and got the bus home. I didn’t like the ambulance speeding by with its blue lights flashing and nee naw going, but I stayed calm, and we made it home without incident, although I think the Wordsmith was mighty relieved when she could put me down cos it’s quite a walk from the bus stop to her house.

Apart from shops and lots of cafes (I met Leyla, a fully functioning guide dog like I'm going to grow up to be, in a café in Crosspool recently), I’ve been visiting too. After calling in to see lovely Louise in her curtain shop to collect some cushion covers (ah, THAT's why I'm not allowed to play with the Ikea thing; it's gone inside a posh cover ... we'll have to see about that!) we went to Auntie Vanessa’s one day for coffee. The Wordsmith got so distracted being shown some newly installed downstairs toilet that I got confused and had to just go myself in Auntie Vanessa’s hallway then again on her kitchen floor when they were schmoozing over some door knobs; I ask you, door knobs! I was better behaved at Auntie Wendy’s though. Even though the Wordsmith was drinking wine, she remembered to take me out to be busy and I didn’t leave any presents on Auntie Wendy’s carpet. She had a fantastic toy there, like a sputnik. I can’t wait to go back and play with it again.

I really am trying to be good, although I know I’ve made the Wordsmith cry a few times. I’ve heard her telling people I’m a bit ‘full on’. But in the evenings, all they want to do is sit and watch that moving screen or play on their phones and I want some attention, so I jump up and bite their hands and their clothes. Last night, I made a hole in the Wordsmith’s favourite red top and I know she isn’t very happy about it. Someone has told her there’s some magic powder that will fix it. I don’t think she believes them, but we’re going over to see Auntie Tara tomorrow to see if it’s true. I’ll try to be good when I’m there.

People think butter wouldn't melt in my mouth (look at me asleep between thee Wordsmith's knees in the car, and with the sack of food bigger than me!), but the Wordsmith and her partner know different. They say I’m the devil dog sometimes. But that’s because I’ve got lots of energy. Get me out walking and I promise I’ll try to change and become calmer. Auntie Della has told the Wordsmith how to stop me going up the stairs, but I’m finding that quite difficult to grasp at the moment and like going up there by myself to find tissues under the bed.

Auntie Leanne is coming to stay next week. I hope the Wordsmith tells her to wear some old clothes and to be prepared to play with me for an hour every evening when she would rather be watching Eastenders. I’ll report back on how we get on and how my first proper walk goes.

Woof woof and out.