Wee

First things first. Mollie considers herself far too sophisticated to troll any of us on a regular basis with any kind of bodily function. I have never heard so much of a squeak of a dogfart from her, she's never belched within earshot, and has never had any problem as far as housetraining is concerned. She could even be classified as a Good Dog in those terms, rather shockingly. But then she would. She is a classy lady after all.

Class.

This particular brand of trolling is from when she was a puppy, and is all about wee.

Now, generally, weeing is a form of submission with dogs, especially with younger ones. Believe it or not, there was actually a time when Mollie would have a moment when she could be considered submissive. That was a long, long time ago, I hasten to add.

Mollie was a hurricane of fur, needle teeth and high-pitched puppy barks from when she was a wee little thing up to adolescence. She was ALWAYS running everywhere, destroying things, and generally training herself to be the best troll dog she could be. Now she's refined her techniques into adulthood, and continues to run rings around me with her cheekiness and love of fox poo, but fortunately, this is something that has been left to her puppyhood, along with chewing on the walls and nipping my feet.

Well, for the most part anyway.

Maybe you dog owners had the same issue if you had a puppy, but whenever something that Mollie considered exciting/amazing/awesome, which could have been anything from someone coming home to you making eye contact with her, she would get this look on her face that basically translated into AHHHI'MSOEXCITEDI'MAPUPPYWHEEE - The tail would start moving so fast I was pretty sure she would be airborne soon, that glint in her eye would return, and of course, she would pretty much evacuate the contents of her bladder to whichever spot of carpet was unfortunate enough to be directly underneath her. There were countless times that my mum would arrive home from work, and IMMEDIATELY, there would be specks and streaks of wee on the carpet, much to my parents chagrin. Out came the carpet cleaner, bish bash bosh, just a minor bit of annoyance. We had already asked Professor Google about this, and read that this was something common to younger female dogs, and that she'd probably grow out of it, so we weren't really worried. To be honest, when something EXTREMELY exciting happens around the house, she might revert back to Puppy!Mollie a little, but to be honest, if something happened like a truck full of bacon arrived outside my house, I would probably pee my pants too, so we don't come down too hard on her for that.

So, one day, when I was in my last year of secondary school, I had half the day off, so I was just lazing around and doing nothing studying hard for classes, keeping an eye on young Mollie as she was whirling around, and basically just being a complete shit normal puppy. The doorbell goes. Mollie, in the garden, stops digging up whatever plant it is that she's destroying and makes a B-line for the back door. Nope! I know exactly how this will go, a hyperactive wriggling mass of slobber and urine. NOPE. Back door is shut before she has a chance to. Problem solved.

To the obstacle that is walls: SOON.

So, I answer the door. It's Tom, my nice neighbour who I sometimes jam with. He's a postman who works in our neighbourhood, and he just thought he'd pop by and say hello. Hello Tom! Of course, he asks about my new puppy. Uh. Sure, come round the back.

"Come and pet my adorable puppy!"

It can't be that bad if she's in the garden, I think to myself. She can pee to high heaven, it's outside. No worries!

So Tom follows me through our little gate where Mollie is already waiting. Seeing that she's meeting someone NEW and FUN and AMAZING and MYNEWBESTFRIENDEVER, she immediately takes off and starts running donuts around the garden to convey her approval. Alright. Then he calls her, and she careens straight for him, and the puppy-fuss begins. She's loving it, he's loving it, I'm standing out of the splash zone.

And then it happened.

She rolls on her back, and a spray of urine goes directly into his face as she rolls around excitedly. He looks up at me and wipes the droplets off his glasses, bemused.

I'm horrified. 'I'm SO sorry,' I say.

He's fine about it, but leaves pretty soon after that. I was mortified and appalled at my disgusting but social little springer.

Funnily enough, as a last note to this story, that particular neighbour ended up being a complete jackass to his partner, who is one of my close friends. When I found out about this, I immediately gave Mollie a treat and shared this story with his now ex-partner, who laughed and told me that the story "made her night".

So, though she's a troll, she is a very good judge of character!

Bearing in mind she has tried to smother me on occasion.