Jun 14, 2014
Mollie the dog
It's 9.30pm, the sky is beginning to get dark. Hamid and I return to the dining table. Java House coffee, check. Laptops check. I gotta churn out eight pages of really good work, better and longer than ever before, because I and the rest of my class will be working on it the whole of next week. Stress.
Whimpering and whining from outside. It breaks my heart, but she's not allowed into the dining room. It goes on for about five minutes and then I can't take it anymore so I open the door. Mollie was just beginning to give up and was walking back towards the kitchen, but she turns around and sees me and gets all alert and barks and runs over. I am greeted by a wave of panting and tail-wagging and paws. She stands on her hind legs and reaches for my thighs. Stands up, loses balance and falls back down, stands up again. Her tail is going crazy. So full of excitement at finally getting some attention. She doesn't stop, you know. It goes on for a long time. Such a huge burst of love, like seeing a close friend whom you thought was dead.
I sit with her for a while, and she lets me pat her. She nuzzles against my thigh, licks my hand, everything. All this while I'm thinking, I've always wanted a dog, but I'm never around enough. I barely spent any time at home even when I lived there. And I love travelling. When you get a dog you essentially buy a package of love, and love isn't conveniently picked up and dropped whenever you want. You have to be able to give the dog the attention it needs. The poor thing would be so lonely otherwise.
I'd better get back to work, I think. I get up and go back in to get my phone so that I can take this picture of her. As soon as the door closes Mollie is whining. I come out again. And it's been all of two seconds but dear Mollie repeats the ritual of euphoria.
Oh, dear Mollie. She's still whining now, even scratching the door.