Last summer, we were told that if Molly ate a little bit of sand, it wouldn't be a problem and would pass right through her digestive tract. She took that to heart and now Plum Island is eroding before our eyes, thanks to Molly's ingestion of large amounts of sand from their beaches. While I don't have any empirical evidence to prove that she's the culprit, I think it's far more likely than that other scenario, like Mother Nature or global warming. Figuring the older and "wiser" Molly would have figured out that sand tastes like buttkis, I didn't anticipate a problem with her and her inaugural experience with Grammy and Grampy's sand box. As has happened on multiple occasions when it comes to "knowing" something about the Energizer Bunny, I was dead wrong. When I was up there dropping her off last weekend, she climbed in and promptly took a fistful of sand and inserted in her chompers. Undeterred, despite some "nooooooooooooooooooooos" from Grampy and myself, she munched away. The sound is worse than fingers on a chalkboard, especially because she has a lot more teeth than last summer.
In my absense, it does appear that she moved away (at least a little) from eating the sand and discovered instead that it's more comfortable wearing it. Maybe I am happy that she is still sporting a mullet because it's easy to brush sand out of the three wisps on top.
Once...
Twice...
Three times a (sandy) lady.
Not even a little sand in the pants keeps a smile away from this messy hound.
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After these pictures were taken closing time came early to the Sand Box Cafe because sand became the popular hors d'oeuvre for the little lady. She's still testing :-)
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