Molly goes to puppy class and fears for her reputation

Molly reporting. It’s been suggested to me that my last doggie bloggie was a bit too long for all you busy people to read. So I’m going to try to keep this one a bit shorter. The trouble is that the Wordsmith keeps adding her own little twist to my dictation and I have little control over her.

I tried eating a plaster out of the bin this week. I didn't like it.

So. (I believe that’s how you humans are starting conversations now.) Puppy class. That was a hoot and a half. I arrived early with my handler having travelled on the 52 bus and we’d had a bit of a leg stretch through a part of Sheffield I hadn’t been to before (and where the Wordsmith was surprised to meet someone she knew, who recognised me from my on-line photos before she recognised her!). Then this room started filling up with ridiculously over-excited puppies. First in was Adam, who was a big boy for his age and black all over, and who was pulling on his lead in his desperation to get into the room. Then Olivia came in with her handler. Olivia has got weird markings that make her look like a Doberman or a Rottweiler when she is just a retriever/Labrador cross like me. She was jumping and barking and pulling and yapping and almost doing backflips in her eagerness to get on with class. Last in was Bonny. Bonny is a week older than me, and more curly, and the Wordsmith kept saying she was ‘cute’, which was a bit alarming cos I thought I was the only cute puppy in town. Oh but Bonny could teach a dog a thing or two about barking. Did she ever go on? I don’t know whether it was exhilaration or whether she was a few wolves short of a pack, but she had to be taken out in the end and brought back in to see if it would calm her down. It didn’t, and when the poor Wordsmith had to introduce us, I don’t think anyone heard who we were for all the noise.

As for me, I just sat there, next to the Wordsmith, taking it all in. It was the first class for all of us and we were all dealing with it in our own way. My way is just more laid back than the others. It was all going quite well until the Wordsmith had to tell me to do things, like ‘wait’ and ‘stay’. Well, I may sit looking at my food in a bowl on the floor even when she leaves the kitchen, has a shower and takes the bin out, waiting for three peeps on the whistle (I may be exaggerating about the shower bit. And putting the bin out. She goes out of the room for a nano second to put something in the cupboard just to prove a point, I think), but the Wordsmith wasn’t getting me to wait for one of those liver treats in class while she walked around me. Not even for two pieces of liver treat. No way! She came away telling me we’ll have to practice more at home, but secretly I think she’s hoping I won’t learn so the Guide Dogs people won’t have me for training and she’ll get to keep me. I’m still deciding about that at the moment.

Auntie Wendy bought me a new toy this week.

So (there it is again), that was puppy class. The Wordsmith asked about taking me free running, but apparently that’s still not allowed and I’ve got to wait for this and that and for there to be a blue moon or something before I can run off the lead. I’m desperate and keep taking my lead in my mouth when we’re out walking to make a point. She’s had to start using my big girl’s lead and collar because my puppy one is too ineffectual now I’ve doubled in size since I went to live with her.

What else have I been up to this week? Well, I met a new auntie who already knew me through my social media presence and who’d been dying to stroke me in person. It was all set up as a Big Surprise for Auntie Christine and she was not disappointed. I put on my best cute behaviour for her, saving the nipping, barking and jumping for when the Wordsmith was trying to watch a Homeland on that moving screen thing later in the evening. The Wordsmith took me to a place called Hathersage this week too. I think she thinks I don’t like it there because I wouldn’t walk round with her properly, but if she’d only thought to take my car harness off before taking me for coffee I might have felt more at ease. What’s a self-respecting puppy supposed to think when she’s made to walk around looking like a bondage dog in public? I’ve got my reputation to think of after all.

Me, refusing to move, in my 'bondage' outfit in Hathersage, Well, what would you do, dressed like this?

On Wednesday they took me on an outing in the posh black car to a place called Cawood. We met some lovely people in an orangery (whatever that is. It looked more like a conservatory to me, but what do I know? I’ve only got a doggie brain), then we went to a place called Cawood where the Wordsmith started taking pictures of strange objects on the top of buildings (I understand she has a thing about weather vanes, whatever they are. I suppose it takes all sorts). We had a pub lunch, then we had a walk on top of a dyke running alongside the river Ouse. It looked more like a mound of earth to me, but the human use of words remains a mystery to me. (Like ‘leave’. Why they keep saying that to me when I have no intention of dropping their precious footwear, I do not know.)

Something I've learned this week is that it isn't always cold. Ever since I was born it's been cold, with white stuff called snow or frost or grey stuff called rain or stuff you can't see called wind, which gets up your tail and makes you jump. Today, there was a big yellow thing in the sky they kept referring to as 'the sun'. Apparently, it doesn't come out often and when it does they have to sit outside to drink their drinks. I got hot today and actually did some panting. I'm told I've got to make the most of it because it won't last. So I lay in a bright patch on the carpet when I got home and panted a bit more until the patch faded and it got dark. I hope it comes back tomorrow. It was quite pleasant to be warm for a change.

So (aha! I’ve managed to start three of these paragraph things with that little demon word!), I’ve rambled on nearly as much as last time. I guess if you want me to bark shorter doggie blogs for the Wordsmith to type up, you’ll have to leave me some comments and tell me what you want to hear about.

I’m off to the vet’s again on Monday apparently, to have another needle stuck into my neck then I’m hoping I can go running without that lead thing attached to the other, but more publicly acceptable item of doggie bondage, my collar. I hope I can tell you all about it next time.

Woof woof till then!

Me in the sun playing Frisbee. Bit of a change from the other day when I had to snuggle under a blanket wen they took me out in the icy slush!