Living With A Movie Star

There was no getting around the fact that Molly was a cute, cute puppy. Tiny. Mostly white, with pretty black ears and a brown spot over her right eye. And the sweetest little face.

Bruce and I fell for her like a tonne of bricks, but it had not occurred to us that this would happen to others as well. I guess we thought that once she was ours, some kind of invisible barrier prevented others from being as smitten with her as we were.

Well, no. Molly drew attention like a movie star at a mall opening. We learned this while we were driving her home after we picked her up and then spent the weekend at Bruce's family's cottage in Inverhuron. It's a three hour drive from the cottage to Toronto and, hyperaware of Molly's eensy bladder, we stopped after about thirty minutes at a community playing field to take her out for a quick stroll.

We'd been out of the car for about a minute, watching our little puppy wander on the grass and keeping a wary eye on a turkey vulture circling overhead, when a couple on a motorcycle pulled up next to the field and walked, with purpose, over to where we were.

They'd seen us from the road and did not hesitate to stop, c'mon over and make a fuss about our dog and tell us stories about other Jack Russell terriers they knew.

After we waved goodbye to our new friends and continued on our way home, we barely remarked on the experience we'd just had. We were, in other words, completely not comprehending the new force in our lives and the impact it would have.

Bruce and I had lived at the same address - a 380-unit, two-tower condo highrise development - for about eight years and did not know a single one of our neighbours.

Little did we know, with our three-pound puppy and all her accessories, that that was about to change. Click here for more details. 

Molly wasn't more than eight weeks old when she climbed up on the windowsill in our bedroom and patiently waited for me to get my camera and take this shot.