All Better!

To say that Sophie is slightly spoiled is akin to saying Charlie Sheen is slightly out of his gourd. It's ok, I'll admit it, without shame or excuse. What can I say? She's my girl.

However, one of our rituals is probably a bit over-the-top, even for the spoiled-dog designation. I can't even remember how this started, but if I don't follow through, Sophie is relentless. It goes something like this (and sorry for the crappy lighting and even crappier blue carpeting--this is part of the house yet to be remodeled).

Sophie: "YELP!"

Me: "Oh no! Sophie, did you get hurt?"

Sophie turns up the big-brown-eyes.

Me: "Oh no! Are you ok?"

Sophie rolls over pitifully. She is clearly at death's door.

Me: "Let me see..." and I pat around on her.

Sophie insists I check her over while making sad-puppy-face.

Me: "You're ok!! Walk it off!!"

Sophie doesn't "walk" anything off. She goes directly from not having the strength to stand to her version of the cyclone in The Wizard of Oz.

Me: "Yay! You'll live!!"

Sophie Cyclone continues. I think I see Auntie Em!

Finally, Sophie stops. She is back to normal.

Whatever that is.

Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain. And her little dog, too.

~J