Molly

Late Friday afternoon my landlord arrived unexpectedly. Landlords turning up on my doorstep are generally not good news so I felt quite nervous when I opened the front door. My relief was palpable when he said that he was leaving for Australia for a week the following day and as his parents were still in the South Island would I please mind his Jack Russell puppy Molly until the following night? I said yes and within ten minutes Molly had arrived.

Mishka was in heaven. For the first two hours he obsessively followed Molly alternatively sniffing her rear end before humping her hopefully. When she jumped up on an armchair to have a rest he stared at her and whimpered until she woke up again. By the end of the evening they were both exhausted from all the activity so Molly curled up to sleep in a cat basket (much to Demelza's horror as she likes to take the occasional nap in there) and we had a quiet night.

Next morning I had an early start as my friend Gay was driving me to Waipawa to collect some angora rabbits a friend was bringing through from Auckland. By 8.32am Gay and I were shivering in the Waipawa Museum car park while my friend Pauline and the secretary of the RCNZ unpacked a ute full of bunnies and unloaded the eight angoras that were coming home with me. I didn't have enough carry cages so had placed cardboard dividers in two of them. These soon fell over so Pauline repacked the cages with buck/doe combinations. Of course nature took its course and on the trip home there was the sound of vigorous scuffling. Appropriate that it all took place on the back seat of the car.

At home Gay and I carried the cages into the office temporarily so I could arrange some temporary isolation system. I then took Molly and Mish outside for a breath of fresh air only to have Molly take off through the fence into the paddock. All I saw was a white flash as she sped away until she found a freshly produced sheep afterbirth. By the time I puffed onto the scene she had nearly finished the tasty morsel. I managed to grab her and brought her back inside but had to wash her feet in the bath as they were caked with mud. I tried to dry them with paper towels but she squirmed so much that I didn't make much headway.

Most of the afternoon I spent arranging cages and cleaning out manure before I brought Molly outside again for another comfort stop. Her memory was pretty acute as she went straight back through the fence and back out to the afterbirth. Off I went again to retrieve the terrible terrier. This time she knew what I was trying to do and I had to chase her about while she did her best to gobble down the most revolting cream and red mess I'd ever seen. Back across the paddock we went, me holding Molly close while she wiggled and squirmed around on my chest. By the time we reached the house we were both exhausted.

Toward evening after a soak in a hot bath I took Molly outside again. Off she sped into the darkness towards the mecca of all afterbirths. As I rushed off after her I saw Briar the donkey began galloping towards her, head down and ears back with her best "kill dog" expression on. In a complete panic I called to Molly but she completely ignored me. With visions of squished dog in my mind I screamed her name again and again. Finally realising the danger she was in she took one horrified look at the grey blur bearing down on her and began yapping. Each time she tried to run towards me Briar would dart between us. Finally Molly managed to get near enough for me to scoop her up in my arms but Briar galloped in circles around me while trying to bite the little dog. I began to head backwards across the dark field, all the while hoping I wouldn't fall into a hole. Briar repeatedly circled desperately trying to get at Molly. Finally I reached the safety of the back gate and managed to squeeze through and lock it. Not surprisingly I slept most of the evening away until 10.30 when I took Molly outside again, hand hovering over her until she'd finished her business when I snatched her up and took her back inside.

After a quiet night Molly was in a terribly playful mood. Even Mishka was played out by now and the cats were severely traumatised. Demelza was particularly miffed from the time Molly crawled towards her on all fours before lying on her back with all four feet in the air. At 8am the landlord's Mum Betty (my neighbour) knocked on the back door and was amused when I opened it and without saying hello thrust a wriggling pup with one hand and Molly's food bag with the other towards her.

But the puppy love doesn't end there. This morning I was busy outside when I heard Mishka begin to bark. I found Molly in the driveway. I looked around but she was on her own so I took her inside and tried to ring next door. The number was engaged so I went outside and saw someone way over the other side of the paddock. Waving my arms wildly in what I hoped was my best "your puppy is over here" manner I was relieved to see Betty walk across towards me. I came in and grabbed Molly and was just in time to hand her back across the fence to her "grandmother". I think I am too old for all this puppy business...old foul mouthed Shetland Sheepdogs are so much easier to cope with.