A Day In My Life

 

 

Hmmm. That funny-looking kid with glasses is looking at me and writing a paper for school.

 

“A Day in the Life of a Boston Terrier.” Sounds like my unauthorized biography.

 

I will try to give you the official version. Here are a few things you should know about me.

 

My name is Mollie. You may call me… “Mollie”. Or, occasionally,  “Mollie Ollie.” You can also call out “Milk Bone,” and I will come running all the same. You may even get better results that way.

 

Dad called me Buster once. I think I was being stubborn about something; I tend to be that way.

 

Ears. I love biting them. The funny-looking kid with glasses can tell you that. His are tasty. I never bite an undeserving ear, though.

 

Peas! I love peas! But who doesn’t? Really, I mean it. If you don’t like peas, write me.

 

Squirrels. Eating my acorns. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t like acorns. I tried them once. Not good. But still, that’s my yard out there, and those acorns are MINE. Once I learn to climb trees there are going to be some ear-bitten squirrels around here.

 

Frisbee. Here’s how it works. You throw it. I run and catch it and bring it back. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

 

Milk Bone. Did somebody say Milk Bone?

 

Puppy Chow! I love it! You don’t have to be a puppy to enjoy it. I’ve eaten it my entire life. I don’t like Dog Chow. Nope. It’s Puppy Chow for me. Unless you’re going to feed me your food. I’ll take that, too. But enough about Puppy Chow. Mmm, Puppy Chow. Excuse me for a bit.

 

Now let’s see, where was I?

 

Have you ever been swimming? I have. Not a huge fan. It’s tough work. And “doggy-paddle?” Give me a break! That’s humiliating.

 

I love when Auntie visits. I turn into a yipping, squealing, overexcited mess when she shows up. I know, it’s embarrassing. Just like when there’s peanut butter on my nose. Or I go cross-eyed while eating an apple, corn on the cob, or orange slices. Don’t laugh. You make some funny faces and noises when you eat, too. Or when your Auntie shows up.

 

That soccer ball has no respect. Sitting out there so smug. Or, audaciously rolling across my yard. I give it the business. I really do. It’s frustrating though; no ears to bite.

 

I could tell a lot of stories about the funny-looking kid with glasses and his family. But I’m a busy Boston with things to do and ears to chew.

 

Chow!

 

 

 

Following is the “unauthorized biography” of Mollie:

 

 

 

And finally… some Mollie artwork from throughout the years…

    Gotta fly now!