As Molly's gotten older, she's become...how do I say this...without causing shock...and disgust...an asshole. That probably still causes some shock and disgust, doesn't it? We still love her! Of course! She's our girl, always will be, but she's just constantly (metaphorically) flipping us off these days.
For instance, if we leave a bag of food or candy on the counter, she'll get in that shit. She used to do this and, no lie, hide the bags and wrappers under her dog bed. We'd eventually find them and she'd run for the opposite side of the house or, no kidding, put herself in time-out. Now, we walk into our bedroom and it's like a Halloween troll broke in and raided the joint. Candy wrappers strewn about the room and Molly kind of looks at us like, "What? That stuff was delicious and I don't even care what happens next."
When we tell her to get off the couch for whatever reason, she'll lift her head and give us a look like, "You'll have to physically make me. Sorry I'm not sorry."
We joke that she's realizing she has more life behind her than in front (she's nine, not exactly ancient but not exactly a puppy either), and she's grabbing life by the horns, tattooing YOLO on her paw, etc.
It's hilarious, actually. Molly was such a nervous, rule-abiding dog for years. In college, we'd let her out in the front yard and she'd sit there for hours, sunning on the sidewalk, napping in the grass. She'd never run away or walk farther than the mailbox. Now, when I let her out to check the mail with me, I have to pull her in from sniffing the plants outside our fence. She's gotten petulant, basically.
Except, you know, she's still this good with the boy we brought home nearly four years ago and totally ruined her life with.
Although as Rebecca said when I posted this on Instagram, she looks so long-suffering here. Always dramatic, that dog of ours.