Post with Pictures

I don't have any pictures.

Or much of anything to say, really.

I do have a sweet dog.  I was on top of a mountain in Colorado when my cell phone rang from a Nevada number and a seven-year-old boy asked in a tiny, far-away voice, "Mom, can we get a dog?"

"Give the phone to Dad.  Now."

They had the dog by the time I got home.  Try as we might, we could not agree on her name.  I was on the phone with my mom, reading from the list of names that somebody, everybody hated when she said,

"What about Molly?"

It was unanimous.  We all agreed that Molly was perfect, and then the Monkey asked a most reasonable question.

"What about her middle name?  You know, for when she's in trouble."

So, in honor of the woman who chose her name, we call her Molly Sue.

Molly was sweet from the beginning.  We loved her immediately.  She fit in just like she had been born into our family, rather than found tied up with a litter of puppies in the backyard of a vacant house in the Vegas heat.  We took her on long walks.  We took her to the baseball fields.  Our love began to restore her confidence, and her joyfulness caused people all over Las Vegas to ask if she was a puppy.  Life was good.

And then the Wonder Hub left for Iraq. 

to be continued...