I've had the radio going while cleaning up, for the past hour or so. Molly meanwhile continued her siesta in the kitchen.
(. . .Yeah, she's inside. I don't know why, really. The weather's fine outside, but when I came home from shopping, she acted like she wanted to come in, too. She's getting a bit spoiled. Maybe I'm imagining it, but I think she's been a little bit needier ever since Daisy died. More prone to suddenly "crying"/howling for no apparent reason, for instance.)
So, anyway, she was quietly resting on a blanket in her corner while "talk radio" voices floated in from the other part of the house. Until they played a clip of Hillary. (The infamous one in which she describes a corkscrew landing and sniper fire.) Evidently, Molly didn't like what she heard, and she voiced her discontent with a few threatening muffs.
You know, I've always heard that dogs can tell a lot about a person. . . ;o)