I have had an official portrait done, and would love for you all to see it….

Doesn’t it look like I just stepped off of the Titanic?  My portrait was done by local artist Cindy Jerrell, and I think she did a wonderful job!!  I especially like the peacock feather in my hat; just adds so much to the outfit!  She also took a casual photo of me and my other person, and that one came out good as well, I believe.

I look like the most behaved dog in the world, don’t I?  Well, let’s have everyone keep on believing that, shall we?  I don’t want anyone to stop approaching me, and it’s not like I bite or jump up on them or anything, although I will extend a dainty paw now and then.

I hope you all had a wonderful Holiday Season…I know it has been almost six months ago, but as I said, I haven’t written in a long time.  I know I did…I even 

got to save my friend Carolee, although I think that she was more under the impression that I was squashing her.  She was on the floor, so I just figured that something was wrong,so I went over to render some aid:  it’s a shame I didn’t have my brandy keg with me at the moment, but these things sometimes come up at the spur of the moment, you know….

For those of you out of town, I’m not sure you know that we got snow this year!  We got it on March 1st, and it just hung around forever! I thought I’d love it, but to be very honest, I really wasn’t sure what it was, and was a bit taken aback by it…I kept on looking for patches of green, but none were to be seen for days, and that’s pretty hard when you REALLY have to go.  I finally just had to find a spot and pretend.  To make it worse, my clutzy other person slipped and banged up her knee, but did wind up with a pair of torn (designer now, I think) jeans, with just the right amount of holes to be stylish.  Here is our Winter Wonderland…

Don’t we both just look wonderful?  That was the first day of the snow, before it got all driven over and yucky looking.   More kept on falling, and by the end, we heard that we had about five inches, which is a lot for Athens, Georgia.  I know that the St. Bernard that used to live here (her name was AsiaNana) used to love the snow; me, I’m not too sure.  Maybe if we get some next year, I’ll be better schooled in the proper procedures.  People kept on saying that I should have known what to do just because of my breed, but if there is such a thing as genetic memory, I was absent that day of class.   Come to think of it, I may have been absent a few days of obedience class, too, although my people claim otherwise.  Still, if I was there in class for the genetic memory lessons, I certainly would have remembered snow.  I take pretty good notes you know, even if only in my head, and I’ve got a pretty big head to remember things with, that’s no lie!

Still, Willow and I managed to have a pretty good time in spite of it all…she had seen snow before, so she was a bit of an old pro at it all.  Speaking of Willow, there’s some bad news.  She is going to have a THIRD knee surgery pretty soon, on the same knee that was done last May.  Some of you may remember that it took her almost six months to start walking on it again, but now she has torn the meniscus in the same knee, and has been limping.  Hopefully, it’s going to be done the first week of June, because she’s in a lot of pain, and is on a lot of medication.  My poor little sister!!  She’s about six years older than me, but I call her my little sister, because of obvious reasons.  I don’t like seeing her in pain, and I really miss our walks.  She’s my buddy, and I hate that she’s not feeling well!!

I guess I should go now.   Now that I started blogging again, I can’t stop!!  I promise it won’t be as long between posts next time, really.

MOLLY~~

I’m not sure how it really happened;  my “back-up” person, Irene, is out of town (she’s really Willow’s person), and my full-time person, Etta (got this straight???) was taking me for my usual walk.  Well, I heard some voices, and realized that they were my neighbors and friends, Gwen and John, so I figured that they would certainly want to see me and I guess Etta got her hand all tangled up in the leash, and now she has a swollen and bruised up knuckle, and Auntie Frank says that my peeps should get rid of me because I get out of control, but, gee!!!!  True, I did get a BIT overenthusiastic and start pulling like a sled dog in heat, but, hey, my intentions were good….THEY’LL NEVER GET RID OF ME…I’M TOO LOVABLE!!  (I hope)

Meanwhile, back-up peep is in a place that is being called Austin by the grownups, and from the pictures that have been sent back, there are bats there.  Why would someone leave me to go and see bats?  She’s going to see bloggers, too, but I don’t know what those are, so I’ll have to wait and give my opinion on those later; there are no pictures available yet on those things.  Austin is supposed to be very hot, so I wouldn’t like it anyway…I like it here, but I like it better when both of my peeps are here.  I really will try to be a better dog – right now, Cesar Milan would hate me!

It’s a dilemma; I’ve been through training twice, and I’m really wanting to be nice and to please, but I just love people and dogs and meeting new friends, and sometimes I just get carried away.  Most people are so happy and surprised when I come bounding up to them that it just makes it all the better, so I keep on doing it.  One or two haven’t liked it, but I forget that all too soon.

I guess I’m just a fool for love….

It occured to me, from my many walks around the neighborhood, that a lot of folks are not familiar with my distinctive breed.  I know that we are particularly rare in the south, but it seems that we aren’t all that plentiful in many other parts of the United States either.  This is distressing, as we are a wonderful and noble breed, suitable for all situations. We are loyal and friendly, good with children and adults, and will fit well even in small spaces, as we don’t require much exercise, being rather sedentary.  As puppies, we have the size and weight of your basic cinder block, although we do tend to grow fairly quickly. We come in two varieties, long (rough) and short haired, although, the short haired (like me) is the original.  It’s believed that we get our name from the St. Bernard Pass in Switzerland, although I tend to think that we more likely get our names from the fact that we are saintly in character!  The most famous St. Bernard was a lad named Barry, who was reputed to have saved anywhere from 40 to 100 lives in the Alps.  St. Bernards were also companions to the monks that live there, which may also contribute to our saintly dispositions. Contrary to public opinion, most of us aren’t named Cujo or Beethoven, although that rumor has been perpetuated in modern film.    There’s also a mascot for the New Orleans Saints that’s named “Gumbo”, and I think that’s a lot better than the other silly names.  There was also the wonderful Nana, the companion of Wendy and Peter from Peter Pan (at least in the Disney version), although I never understood the flying bit.  There’s a print of Peter, Wendy and Nana, although I don’t think it does her justice….

Grown up Saints can weigh up to 200 lbs, but we never lose our gentle nature.  To the contrary, we’re more likely to knock you over with enthusiasm and love than any malicious intent.  Prior to me living at this wonderful home, there was another Saint here, named in part for the dog in the Peter Pan fable.  Her name was AsiaNana, and she was as loved as I am.  She came to live here in May of 2001, after her wonderful person Lyric couldn’t keep her any longer. Lyric wanted to be sure that AsiaNana (her name was just Asia at the time) got a good home, and  she came to meet my people and my little sister before she would entrust her beloved Saint to their care.  You see, we Saints are really special, and need to be with special people….certainly at very least with people who can hang on to a leash well, be ready with a drool rag, and have a well-working vacuum cleaner!!  Here’s a picture of AsiaNana, taken with my little sister, Willow….

AsiaNana was lost to kidney failure in May of 2006, the same month that I was found by Animal Control…I think it was MUCH more than coincidence that all of this happened, don’t you?

One more important item to discuss about our breed…we don’t come equipped with brandy kegs.  It is a total myth that we are born with those wooden barrels around our necks.  After all, are Great Danes born with wooden shoes???  Geez!!!  The origin of the keg story is a bit of a muddle, with some saying that Saints in the Alps did carry them, and others saying that they didn’t, but it always does make a good photo op.  I personally DO have a keg of my own, although I’ve never been photographed wearing it, as I don’t want to brag.  I just figure that it’s part of my safety and rescue equipment.  There are some really dashing pictures of dogs in full gear, though, and they do look ever so good…

Me, I’m more of a laid back, wait for the moment kind of girl, although I’m sure I would swing into action should the need arise.  Meanwhile, I think I’ll take a nap.  Talk to you all later!

For one thing, I HATE storms. Once a thunderstorm starts, I generally stay inside even if I need to do something, and I spend my time hiding upstairs with one of my peeps. Sometimes, I even try to jump on the bed and get under the covers, but I generally want to lay there and shake a lot. The louder the thunder, the more I start panting and staring at someone. It’s embarrassing to be this big galoot of a dog who is trying to crawl into a persons bed because you’re scared; but the next fact is even worse……

I’m nervous around my two cat brothers. As I’ve told you, one of them is psycho, but the other one is nice, yet if they’re between me and my food bowl, I will whine and cry and not go there. I think they’re catching on, too, as they seem to be playing this game a lot more lately. I get back at them, though, but going into the kitchen when they’re not looking and eat all of THEIR food. I really get nervous when they try to fight, but then my first aid training starts up, and I get right in the middle of them, so I manage to be brave then. I think I might make a poor example of a rescue dog if it came right down to it, so I need to work on it a lot. I mean, my relatives have been doing this for hundreds of years and all, and it would be awful if I was the St. Bernard that couldn’t rescue straight. I don’t know if this will get me expelled from the Alpine League of anything of that sort, but it wouldn’t be pretty. I’m sure I have an Uncle Johan somewhere who thinks that his niece has just grown soft living it the United States, particularly where there’s no snow. I’m not sure what I’d tell him about how that explains the cats, I just don’t know. It’s funny, though, that I’m the same dog that just runs up to any dog, cat, person, squirrel, possum, probably skunk (haven’t tried it yet), so I’m not certain about the actual syndrome. What’s interesting is that my little sister Willow went to do something that I know I’d love, and she got all freaked out. She went swimming in order to help her leg that she still won’t use. Her person came home all scratched up from Willow flailing in the pool, but they finally figured out how to do it where Willow wasn’t a scardy dog. I think I would have just loved to go swimming. Maybe if I go along, I can help her out!!! I mean, I WOULD be doing it for altruistic reasons only, you know. Willow is more of a scardy pants than I am, and that takes some doing. Aren’t I just a princess??

I’m a lucky girl, but I wasn’t always the beautiful specimen you see. In fact, I was found by Athens Animal Control weighing only about 85 lbs, and covered in demodex mange…it wasn’t pretty. I’m going to post a picture of what I looked like then, but don’t look at it if you’re too sensitive…I don’t want you to be sad. I have no recollection of where I came from, but I think it was somewhere good because I came to Animal Control with friendliness and good manners. Even in my condition, I would give my paw to anyone who came close to me. Animal Control was very good to me; they had to keep me at least five days to see if an owner showed up, and they didn’t want me to remain in that condition, so several there pooled their funds, and found enough to take me to a vet, where they worked on my mange and my weight. I was also lucky enough to be fostered by Helping Paws Rescue at Pawtropolis and I was then named Molly Brown, after the Unsinkable Molly Brown. I then wound up staying there for several months, even though my people had put in an application to adopt me, since I had to get to 100 lbs before I could leave. I’m not posting all of this in an appeal for pity; in matter of fact, I’ve got a wonderful life now! This is more a shout out for two wonderful organizations: Pawtropolis (Helping Paws), and Athens Animal Control. It’s also going to be about another organization, that I’ll get to soon. Pawtropolis is a cool spot where I go for daycare, and occasional sleepovers, but more than that, it’s the home, too, for Helping Paws Rescue, an organization that helps orphaned and stray dogs and cats find shelter and new homes. I was taken there soon after I was found and, with the aid of sponsors, nursed back to health. The place is the brainchild of Amanda Rodriguez, a cool lady who just loves dogs, and who runs a rockin’ place. Here she is right now!! I have her website address posted here on the blog, and I would love for everyone to visit it.

As I said, my first stop was Athens Animal Control, and although it’s your standard “pound” that every town has, the people that work there really care about the dogs, and try their best to care for them and find them homes. They sure went above and beyond for me. This brings me to the other group that I mentioned before. One of my people started working for a group called Athenspets.net, which is a wonderful site started by a teacher named Allyson Hester. She now has a group of volunteers who go to Animal Control on a regular basis, walk the dogs, and also take pictures of them. The volunteers then write up stories about the dogs, and Allyson puts the pictures and stories up on the website, in order to get more people to see them. This is a picture of Allyson and her fourth grade class, who raised $1100 for Helping Paws Rescue. So, as you can see, me and my peeps know some pretty awesome people, and some wonderful organizations that can use some time and some moolah…you didn’t think I was writing this all for my health, did you?? There are a lot of dogs (and cats) out there who need great homes like mine, and unfortunately, the number never runs out. By the way, here’s a newer picture of me to make you forget about the sorry one above…oh, and my brother Chester is in it as well. Here’s another one of my brother Chester! So you all have a good week…Molly.

Things have been a bit crazy at home…my little sister Willow is still not using her back leg like she is supposed to, and hasn’t been able to go on walks with me, and the vet says that she isn’t healing as quickly as she should. She’s a happy sister, though, and we have a great time together, so I hope she gets better soon. We have fun on our walks, even though she has no idea about what to do with a tennis ball…I don’t get how a dog doesn’t have that as a gene or something. My brother Chester decided to scare Auntie Frank and stop walking last week (he only has three legs to begin with), and she got really scared and took him to the vet. He’s on medicine now, and is doing better, but has arthritis and stuff, and a metal plate in his leg from his old accident (so I was told). He likes to sleep a lot, and doesn’t even mind when Paco lands right on him. Of course, that bird is so loud that sometimes we all hope that Chester wakes up and really goes after him, but we’re just kidding….sort of.

Meanwhile, my other brother Maximus is still as crazy as ever. He hasn’t been bringing in as many dead chipmunks lately, and my people have been happy that they can use the bathtub, so that’s been good, but he’s still a strange kitty. One of his favorite things is to play “big game hunter”…when we go out on walks, he stalks us through the bushes, and then jumps out at us from time to time. Other times he just follows us on our walks, sometimes going all the way around the block, meowing as he goes. He’s like a little Russian Blue caboose, and a loud one. One of my people took this picture of him, and it looks like he’s had a few too many drinks. Maybe that’s his problem…I wouldn’t know. I do carry brandy in a keg, but that is purely for medicinal purposes.

I hope that things settle down now…this has all been confusing, but I know that I made it through with flying colors…after all, I’m a Saint!!!

However, she’s still extremely camera shy, so you’ll just have to put up with pictures of the rest of us…

First up, here’s my older brother Chester, in a picture taken in January.

Isn’t he just the cutest thing? That’s what he does the best, sleep. He’s also good at eating, and going in and out of doors, generally wanting to do so when it’s least convenient for people to open and shut them. He’s also good at standing in the doorway trying to decide whether to go in or out, particularly when it’s either very hot or very cold outside. So much for dogs wanting to go out all the time!

Next up is my younger brother, Maximus...he’s a nutcase, and a mass murderer. He brings in small animals and leaves them in the downstairs bathtub. We think he’s psycho, and that he has an alter-ego named “Ralph”. At least, that’s what he always tells us when he comes inside, blaming this imaginary cat for everything with a loud “Raaalph!!!!!!” repeated over and over. We think that it’s just a way of trying to mount an insanity defense, but we’re not sure. Anyway, this is him in the dryer. Come to think of it, that insanity defense might just work….

Finally, here I am…you didn’t think I’d post pictures and not include myself, did you? This picture is of me trying to figure out why my psycho brother is literally a basket case. Pardon the mess! I promise to keep on trying to get a picture of my sister, and include it the next time. Meanwhile, have fun, and smell the flowers…

Well, the apartment where Biscuit lives is at street level, and the door was open, so I just figured that she was receiving visitors, and wanted us to come in, and I proceeded to do just that. There was a guy in there, in bed, and I’m not exactly sure why he was in bed in the middle of the day, or whether or not he was wearing clothes or not, but I figured that he might be in distress or something, and that after all, I WAS a St. Bernard, trained in rescue and all that stuff, so I made a valiant attempt to climb into bed with him…

Funny, though, he didn’t seem all to pleased with that idea, nor did my person. I think it’s that I didn’t have my brandy keg with me. I’ll have to remember to bring it with me on future walks, so that my intentions are clearly honorable.

People are so strange…

Here are two pictures of my sister….she goes back to the vet tomorrow to get the drains out. Hopefully, she’ll look less like a space alien after that. Right now she smells funny, too, but I haven’t told her that. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.

Oh, and one last thing…..what on Earth is this contraption? DO NOT WANT!

On another down note, R.I.P. Eight Belles…