Molly 
Golden Retriever
Molly is Sammy and Barley's Mom
Description is written by Jenny (Molly's Owner)
About a year before we got Molly, I actually saw her dad perform in a small dog show at our county fair. I remembered his name quite easily -
Ace Mack - because his owners/handlers kept calling him Ace. Molly must look like her mom (I never saw her) because Ace was a blonde golden
and Molly is red, just like Ben. Like Ben, Molly was also flown from South Dakota to us, this time in San Diego. Apparently, she was a little
flirt during her flights - when we picked her up from the cargo terminal, the folks in the office there kept talking about how playful and
talkative she was even while in her kennel. Well, that just set us up for things to come! As a puppy, Molly was used to getting a lot of
attention because she was so freaking cute. The joke was on her because a year later, she stopped getting so much attention from passers-by
and she just never understood why. She'd always wag her tail outrageously fast and smile and stare at people as the walked toward her, but
when they kept walking without acknowledging her 'cuteness', I think her ego was a little hurt...Ben probably was thinking "about time!"
Anyway, once Ben got over his fear of Molly - I did mention he is a scaredy-cat, right? - the two of them became inseparable, and they remain
that way to this day. Molly is just as much of an attention hog as Ben is. She also knows how to make herself heard, really. When she wants
attention, or wants us to wake up in the morning, she knows that standing next to an object which she can bang her tail against will
certainly get her some attention - maybe not the attention she wants, but attention nonetheless! She is also very loyal. She insists on laying
in the cubbyhole of my computer desk that is meant for my legs and feet. When I leave, she leaves. When I come to the computer desk, she comes -
and just stares at the little open cubby until I role my chair back to let her in. Molly, like Ben, loves tennis balls. She'll play fetch until
the cows come home - or until she finally tells you she's done by not bringing the ball back to you but going somewhere cool to lay down...
with the slobber-soaked ball in her mouth.
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