Mandy Anne Murray

And I still have very little to say. I am in a rut of sorts, in many aspects of my life. I need to work out more, get out more, work more, craft more, play more … the list goes on. I’m not unhappy, by any means, but I am somewhat … stagnant? I liken myself to a hermit who’s gotten tired of the “living-in-a-cave, eating-tubers-and-acorns” lifestyle.

Although, if I was living in a cave, eating tubers and acorns, I know that my weight issues would be drastically reduced. But something tells me that the boyf and Mollie wouldn’t be happy in a damp, dark place. Come to think of it, neither would I. I’d have nowhere to store all my stuff!

Speaking of Mollie, I haven’t yet posted pictures of her here, even though it’s been three months (and 4 days?) since we adopted the adorable thing. So, here she is, Ms. Mollie Weasley:

She’s a three-year-ish old chihuahua mix (some have said with terrier, beagle, dachsund … there’s not a definitive consensus). The picture above is one that someone at the Humane Society took; I’m a horrible photographer and can’t seem to do her cuteness justice. We’ve struggled a bit since we got her, or at least I have, due to the myriad of problems that came with: heartworm, mange, kennel cough, allergies, a respiratory ailment, hookworm and tapeworm. But, I think the grey skies have finally started to clear up, as all of those things (minus the allergies, but both the boyf and I have to suffer through those, so we’ll all suffer together) have been medicated and are now (supposedly?) gone from her little body.

She’s a lazy beast, but seems to fit in perfectly with the two of us, who can also be lazy beasts “from time to time.” She’s a blanket snuggler/digger … any blanket within her reach is hers, and we humans just have to deal. She’s also what the boyf likes to call a “mama’s dog,” as she’s quite often found following me around and, sources tell me, whines at the door when I leave.

We’ve had some trouble with her not letting us know when she has to go to the bathroom, and peeing on the (rented! beige!) carpet, but it has decreased since she’s gotten off her nasty heartworm medication. I say decreased, not stopped as I’d love to, because she spotted last night. She knows that it’s the wrong thing to do. I guess her humans need to just watch her a little closer and not a. go to bed without letting her out or b. pause the playing of W.O.W. or the new X-Box 360 to open the door.

I’ll leave you now with this image, one that proves just how easy going Ms. Mollie is:

P.S.-The boyf did it. ;)