Chronicle of Sophie

Youd be tuckered too if you had all of Sophie's responsibilities.This morning she had to clean out my closet--shred one cork heel lift, scatter various tissue paper bits around the bedroom, destroy one unidentifiable plastic object, and flatten an empty small jewelry box that had fallen on the floor. Then she had to go outside for a while and patrol for those pesky squirrels that have the nerve to invade her domain. This afternoon Jordan and Jacob took her for a long walk at a fairly rapid pace. She thinks she wore them out.
A friend is staying temporarily in my guest house, which only adds to Sophie's responsilities. She's taken to lying in the corner of the yard by the apt., but periodically she jumps up to peer in the window and check on things.She went inside once but seemed pretty uncertain about those strange surroundings. Her guarding is best done outside.
Pretty much she's adjusting to being an only dog. It does have its upside--she gets a lot more inside time, a lot more love and attention, and a lot more snacks and treats. She doesn't seem to mope around as much, although she still sometimes lies on  Scooby's bed--that's where she went to shred the heel lift. I'm sure Scooby would have disapproved, and he never would have helped her.
I suppose, someday, if a rescue dog's picture jumps out at me and says "I was meant for you," I'll get a second dog. But for the time being I too am comfortable with our arrangement. At sixteen months, Sophie has calmed down a lot, but she still has a way to go.
When strangers come in, she manages to sit and contain her excitement if someone reminds her in a stern voice but you can see her little body quiver with excitement. When Jordan comes in, she has long, howling conversations with her, and when she and I play tug over a toy, or toss and fetch (usually late at night), she growls at me fiercely. Sometimes in the house, she likes to play "Catch me if you can"--I can't, so she still wears a leash around. There was that embarrassing time I couldn't open the door to discuss a disputed water meter reading because I couldn't catch the dog. The meter reader and I had to yell at each other through the thick beveled glass of the door.
Sophie sleeps in her crate at night without a peep, and in the morning when I open the door she immediately comes for a long loving session, looking soulfully at me with those little brown eyes that almost get lost in her fuzzy face. Definitely a lover not a fighter.

My Lonely Only

Sophie, chewing on a Bully Stick--best treat ever

When I lost my 12-year-old Aussie, Scooby, a week and a half ago, I was sure I'd get another dog immediately. Sophie, the 15-month Bordoodle, needed a pal. My children, particularly my oldest son, tried to talk reason. "Let Sophie have a while being the only dog. See how she does." No, I argued, she'll be bored and lonely. She won't get any exercise. She loved him.
True enough, Sophie was sort of quiet and depressed. I washed Scooby's bed cover and put the bed in the guest room, intending to take it out to the apartment for visiting dogs. I'd find her taking her toys and lying there during the day, though she's quit doing that now. But she was clearly lonely.
One night I thought she looked particulary sad, and I began to investigate rescue dogs on the web. Found a beautiful red Aussie but she was six months old (I can't train another dog!) and she needed work. In other words, she was a herder; she needed all that exercise. Then I found a lovely mini-Aussie named Bluebelle. She was available through the Mini Aussie Rescue Service, and I swear I filled out lengthier, more complicated forms that I did when I adopted four children. They warned they did't reply immediately.
Meantime Sophie began to adjust. She enjoyed having the run of the house--okay, I close off the playroom because there are just too many stuffed toys, Lego parts, etc., and I close off my closet because she takes the arch supports out of my shoes and destroys them. Hey, she's still partly a baby. And I have discovered two instances where what I thought was impeccable housetraining broke down, but maybe I didn't pay attention to her messages.
Still, lots of the time she would lie at my feet while I worked. I put all her toys in a basket in my office and she would choose one or two and dart off with them. She knows when I turn off the computer and light at night and chooses that time to bring me a toy to fight over. She gets lots of love, when she comes out of her crate, when she comes in from outside, when she begs by my desk. "This is working," I told myself.
We--the dogs and I--developed a three o'clock nap habit this summer (about to change with Jacob going back to school). But this afternoon, I got lost in the book I was reading and realized it was four and I didn't know where Sophie was. She had curled up in her crate and gone to sleep. "Mom, don't you know it's nap time?"
Today the MARS people wrote to say that Bluebelle had gone to a new home and was I still interested. I thanked them, said how happy I was for Bluebelle, and said I was rethinking the whole thing, would they please keep my application on file. It really is easier having one dog. I'm just not sure about the future.