The next day the vet reckoned that she was about six months old, he said she wouldn't have lasted long on her own. Underweight with worms, and frightened, but otherwise alright. She'd obviously had an owner but it looked like she'd been dumped. Nevertheless, I placed several ads in the local papers, online, and on lamposts to say she'd been found. I was elated when no-one claimed her.
A year later she had six pups, parting with them was difficult but I found good homes and held on to the last one which nobody wanted whom I called Daisy. They are both an absolute joy, we have a lot of fun and are inseparable.
They often draw spectators as they run beside me while I'm cycling (the fastest dogs in Lodz!), plunge down pits or into lakes together and return sharing a stick. We have travelled far and wide and had many adventures.
Molly has been hit twice by cars driven by maniacs that slowed to look at her lying in the road then sped off, but she was lucky to escape with just a broken leg. Daisy is anaemic and so I have to be particularly careful to steer her away from broken bottles which are all over the place.
Until Molly arrived I never really noticed dogs. I didn't see them. Rather like babies, which to me all look the same, until I suppose, you have one and then it connects you to baby world. I am now a 'dog person'. M&D sleep with me, they accompany me on all visits out of town, we run daily in the forest. I'm buying my country retreat with them in mind, without whom I wouldn't have bothered.
