Monday, October 08, 2012

The Chronicles of Sophie....continued

I have a new name for Sophie: 'Stroyer, short for Destroyer. Yesterday was a particularly outstanding day for her. She snatched a handwoven coaster off my desk, didn't chew much but that one corner is probably enough to start it unraveling. Next she got one of my bras--no, it was not on the floor but hanging on a doorknob where I often put it. I thought she couldn't hurt it much. After all she wasn't going to tear great holes in fabric. But when I put it on I couldn't fasten it--she had destroyed the plastic hook--just hope it's not in her stomach.
 But the final insult was that she stole the last bite of my lunch sandwich--just reached up to the plate next to me on the desk and took it. I wasn't looking but when I turned back to the plate, I thought, "Wait a minte. I didn't eat it all." I'd been savoring that last bite in my mind. Then I saw her licking at something on the floor. This was no ordinary sandwich--I had combined mayonnaise, the last of a roast chicken, and crumbled blue cheese on rye bread. My all-time favorite sandwich.
I first ate this combination in the basement cafeteria of a department store in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, way back when I was in college. Brought the idea home to my mom, and she loved it as much as I did. We were--and I still am--big fans of Maytag blue cheese. One day Mom fixed me a sandwich to take to the hospital where I worked and also fixed one for the older single woman who was manning the gift shop that day. The other woman ate my sandwich, raved about it, and left me salami and cheese. A big enough disappointment that it stands out in memory even today.
Back to Sophie: last night I had dinner guests, he an Episcopalian priest who had done a blessing of the animals service that day on a ranch. Since Sophie is still too excitable to take to a blessing ceremony, I asked him to bless her. She is now blessed though it was quite informal--she was trying to jump in his lap and he said something quckly about blessing her and then named the whole family. Katie and Gayland were, however, lovely about welcoming Sophie, raved about her beauty (well, I think so), and loved on her. She behaved medium well, did sit when told to but quivered with excitement.
Today there was no school, so Jacob spent the night and was here until after lunch when he went to play with a friend. He went outside to play with Sophie and I took the picture above. He tells me she is his best friend, and today he said, "Sophie is a lover." When I agreed, he said, "I am a lover too. She gets it from me." Then he hastily added, "And from you too!"

5 comments:

LD Masterson said...

Did I ever tell you about Chance? His specialty was shoes. Not my husband's shoes, just mine. And only the left shoe. Seriously. He went through my closet and destroyed the left show from every pair. Never touched the right. Maximum distruction without overeating, I guess.

Judy Alter said...

Funny that he would always choose the left shoe. Sophie hasn't ruined any shoes but gets the arch supports I insert and destroys them, also the heel lift I wear in one shoe. I keep my closet door firmly closed these days.

Polly Iyer said...

He tells me she is his best friend, and today he said, "Sophie is a lover." When I agreed, he said, "I am a lover too. She gets it from me." Then he hastily added, "And from you too!"

What a charming thing for a little boy to say. I'm in love.

As far as destruction, I got you all beat. Five pieces of a seven piece sectional sofa, another sofa, and 8 chicken breasts. The chicken was in a dish on the counter. One minute they were there, the next they were gone. 8! It's hard to get mad at a loving dog. They do what they do.

Judy Alter said...

Good gravy, Polly, you do have me beat. What kind of dog? But you're right--they do what they do, and we love them and they love and trust us. I cannot imagine life without a dog, though I miss the big gentle dogs I've had all my life. Sophie is mid-size, so she has the love of a big dog and the mischief of a small one. I fight the two-dog decision all the time.

Polly Iyer said...

The most destructive was a Brittany spaniel. The chicken eater was a golden. Right now we're tending my son's dog, a very difficult one. He whines constantly, drools, and we've been infested with fleas. My son's a vet, and we though he'd put Max on a preventative. He didn't. We are not happy about that. Exterminator came, and things are better. Max is a lab mutt, 13 yrs old. He's lying here beside me. Can't really get mad at him, but there are times. We have a 15 yr. old cat too. He's an outdoor cat, but he comes in too. I love both dogs and cats, but these will be our last pets.

On another note, Judy, I found a July post of yours yesterday. You were so nice talking about my book. Thank you. It made my day.