My three-year-old friend Molly wants a dog so badly she has become her own pet. While her birth certificate says Molly, the canine alter ego is a dog called Bruce and frequently she will answer only to that. I love her determination and imagination. Also, as the mum of two fur babies I love her preferred choice of pets. So today I was entertaining three dogs - Rumple, Winkle and Bruce. We chased balls because dogs like that. We went to the park because that's where you take the dogs. For much of the time Molly was Molly but her inner canine did sneak to the surface. All three "dogs" wanted to chase away birds. All three were quite keen to roll in the grass and they all found themselves a bit parched. Now Molly's parents being well prepared types had packed a water bottle. But Bruce can not drink from a bottle. Given half the chance she would have hydrated from the dog trough. I am a great one for fostering imagination and creativity but not
that far. So we compromised. She lapped water from the tap that fills the trough. I gave her a pat on the head. I would have given her a Schmacko but I'm not sure her parents would have approved. So I let Rumple and Winkle have a little corner of muffin. It only seemed fair.
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