Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Who's your daddy, Poodle?

When people see Sophie, they always smile. She's such a card. I get all kinds of comments on her, but the most often asked question is, "What is she?"


My sister calls her "gamey." I think that's about the closest adjective that describes Sophie. We think she's part coyote, part fox, and a bit of deer in there....

Well, there's no doubt what her momma is. I saw her with my own eyes and she's a very typical Rat Terrier.


This isn't her, but close enough. At least you can see a bit of Sophie in there. Weirdness is apparently genetic.

But then everyone asks, what's the other half?


I hate to break it to you, but this line of questioning could go on for quite sometime as Sophie's daddy is also quite "gamey."

I was told he's part Heeler, which I couldn't see all that well but I'll be darned, someone once asked me if Sophie was part Heeler without me even mentioning it, so they could certainly see what I couldn't!

This photo explains a lot with what's going on with her ears....

Of course he's just a pup in these pics, but it's sort of fun to try to see where her distinctive traits come from.

I was looking into the Rat Terrier breed and stumbled across an article about "Feists," which are apparently mut/terrier crosses much like Sophie, bred specifically for their speed and agility to tree small game.

"Squirrel!" (name that movie)

Sophie instead prefers to regularly tree kitties and takes great delight in making anything run that she can, although she wouldn't hurt a fly. As long-time readers know well, I've had to discuss this chasing obsession with Miss Sophie, especially in regards to the large, hooved-beasts that don't appreciate a yappy little dog in their way.

And she tries, but it's so darned difficult, momma.

I kid a lot about Sophie, call her patronizing names like "Poodle," joke about how raunchy and rude she is, but I couldn't imagine my life without her. She makes me smile when I think I can't, laugh when all I want to do is cry, and most of all, she offers her unconditional love, even when I'm broke, or don't have make-up on or haven't had a pedicure in an indeterminent period of time.

So it doesn't matter where she came from, really. All that matters is that she's here and she's weird. Get used to it.

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