She's the Best Bad Dog of All

The Boston Herald

She didn't get top billing. Actually she didn't get any billing at all. In theater terms, I suppose you'd say she has a bit part. The press release gushes about Bambi and Tootsie and Nicki and Todd. But there's not a single word about Molly.

Still, you know the old saying: There are no small parts, only small players. And Molly, when she's on camera, is evidence of this. She steals the show. She talks. She walks. She runs. She leaps. She even dances a little, admittedly like a clumsy ballerina, but a dance is a dance.

You can see her for yourselves, in her television debut tonight at 8 o'clock on Channel 2. Molly's the good-looking girl with the black hair and the big brown eyes, who does pirouettes with gusto and howls in delight when the man she loves walks through the door. Star material, definitely. Agents will be knocking down the door.

"Molly, that awful dog, is on TV?" Rosemary shouted into the phone when I told her about our budding star. "What is it, awful dog week? Is she supposed to be an example of when obedience school doesn't take?"

Well, as a matter of fact

"Dog's Best Friend," the press release says, "is a warm-hearted public television special that explores the passion, the respect and the incredible need people have for their dogs. You will meet Echo the hero dog Bambi, the best judge of a potential boyfriend; Tootsie, the dog with the cleanest teeth in town; Nicki, the retired greyhound."

And you will also meet Molly, my awful dog.

She was chosen, I suppose, to be a counterpoint to the good dogs, the alto to all the sopranos, ying to a bunch of yangs. She plays her role to perfection. She jumps when she is told to sit. She runs when she is told to stay. She stands there and wags her tail when she is told to lie down. She didn't have to try out for her part. She was recommended by Ray McSoley, a dog behavior therapist, who has seen his share of out-of-control dogs and determined that Molly is a standout in her crowd.

But Molly isn't the only slightly ill-mannered dog in this PBS special. There is one unnamed creature who at six months and 70 pounds tore up his owner's wall-to-wall carpeting, then a few days later dragged a mattress off a bed all the way down a flight of stairs.

The owner laughs and smiles and pets her dog all the while she is telling this tale.

Then there's Spike, a cute little thing, who, his owner declares, suffers from "stress incontinence."

"When my husband or any male member of the family pets him, he invariably lies on his back and pees in the air. He's neurotic but in a good way. A Jewish way," she says, and roars.

Molly eats small rugs only. She never pees in the air. She is a good bad dog. Good or bad, people love their dogs. "Dog's Best Friend" focuses on the good dogs. This is hardly Melrose Place. There are no Amandas here. The show is a kind of Sesame Street, a compendium of short, upbeat segments that are instructive, funny, entertaining, and touching.

Feasting your eyes on Molly, of course, is reason enough to cancel your plans and tune in, but if Molly isn't your cup of tea - and she's certainly not everyone's - there are other reasons to watch this show.

You get to see a sheep dog actually herding sheep. You get to see a poodle dressed up like Mickey Mouse. (Cross my heart.) You get to see a great-looking Dalmatian sitting on a not-so-great-looking, black-and-white-spotted-to-look-like-a-Dalmatian couch, next to his Dalmatian-crazy owner who is dressed in a Dalmatian T-shirt!

It's a howl. Pun intended. Tune in. See a dog play a piano. See a dog mesmerized by a doggie video that features cats and cows. And see Molly, the awful dog, the out-of-control dog, the best bad dog of all.