Molly Rae

When Hubby and I head out for Star Hill, we are not alone. For the past 13 years I have had to compete for Hubby’s attention because another girl is in love with him. She is a chubby, petite redhead. Her name is Molly Rae. She is officially our daughter’s registered pomeranian, but believe me when I tell you her heart belongs to my husband. At 13 (81 in human years) she has cataracts, she is hard of hearing, some days her joints don’t work too well, she snores, and she has to get up in the night to go to the potty. We have more than a few things in common. Molly LOVES to go to Star Hill almost as much as she loves  Hubby. She smiles all the way there in the back seat of the truck. I think it is because she has figured out that she is going to spend the weekend with her man.  The old lady has a lot more freedom up in the country.  She loves to lay on the front porch hoping to catch a glimpse of movement so she can bark at it.  She is a true Weekend Country Girl. 

I took the red out of her eyes and she looks creepy. 
 

 
 

In the summer we have to cut her hair to keep the stickers, fleas, and ticks of her.  Hubby calls her going into the woods mud grubbin.  I just think she is looking for something to eat.  She thinks she looks great with her hair cut off.  Silly dog.

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