Her name is Molly, aka Good Golly, Miss Molly! Molly-Loo, Mollycoddles, and Mollywubbles.
Molly is eight months old and part border collie. The rest of her is either Corgi (judging by her ears) or speed freak (judging by her behavior). She has no clue how to be a dog, having lived her life to this point in the company of humans, specifically Nurse Ames and Her Lovely And Charming Husband.
Nurse Ames and LaCH are on one of those schwanky sailboat cruises through the Bahamas at the moment. Molly got here last night, right before they left.
This is Max being awesome. His youthful ward is just visible behind the big tree stump.
Molly, in full flight.
Max, wondering what the hell I've done here.
Molly had no clue what to do with the pig's ear. She sniffed it and was uninterested, so I gave Max his and dropped hers on the deck. She immediately went to see what Max was doing, and saw that he was chewing his pig's ear.
She ran back to hers, looked at it curiously, and ran back to Max. He didn't even lift a lip at her, and he's normally very posessive about food. Back to her pig's ear she went, then back to him. The lightbulb finally went on, and I left them on either side of the doghouse, both peacefully chewing their pig's ears.
She's already filthy muddy and covered with tree debris and she hasn't even been here twenty-four hours. Nurse Ames won't recognize her.
