I’m writing this to honor the memory of Molly May. Molly wasn’t mine, but it doesn’t feel that way. I met Molly only in the last of her 10 years, and she was a pretty amazing dog. She was so smart and responsive you’d quickly find yourself talking to her like a person because she had an uncanny ability to really understand you in a way that was clearly not training.
Her intelligence also seemed to manifest as an endearing set of neurosis, from being deathly afraid of thunder and photo flashes, to literally pouting if things didn’t go her way like getting her spot on the bed. She’d even go into the bathroom and close the door behind her (locking herself in) when left alone at home.