February 7th 2013 5:50 am
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Last night I was peacefully snoring away in the most coveted of Sophie Slumber Spots: Once Dad had fallen asleep and I heard him snoring, I used Stealth Sophie Tactics to sneak between Dad and Mom. I was curled in a tight little Sophie Ball, close enough to Dad's back to be gently rocked and rolled by his snoring, but tight against Mom's upper torso, close enough to feel secure in her love. I was of course violating Dad's rule of no dogs touching him while he sleeps, but as long as he is asleep, how is he to know? If he awakens, then he makes me move to my usual spot, between Mom's legs.
I would like to give Mom the benefit of the doubt: she usually has to feel around to figure out if it is Dad or a Dog sleeping next to her. With Dad's Eastern European heritage, he is not just covered in hair; he is covered in a pelt. Mom has to feel around for a balding head. Poor Dad's pelt of hair has all migrated Southward. What makes it worse for Dad is that he began to shed head hair far later than all his friends. His father was not bald. Dad thought he was immune. He made fun of all his friends who were losing their hair, because he was certain that his thick course head hair was there to stay. Dad was wrong. When he began to lose head hair, it was so rapid, he had no chance to get used to the idea. (Mom says that Dad kind of deserves to lose his hair so rapidly, after making fun of his friends, without impunity, thinking that he was immune from this aging right of passage.)
Anyhoodles, I'd like to think that perhaps Mom just thought that it was Dad sleeping next to her; she had confused both my pelt and my snoring for Dad. Perhaps I was in so tight a Sophie Ball that she did not notice me.
No. I have to admit that Mom tried to do me in.
I was all curled up, snoring away. Mom moved her second pillow underneath her right arm, against her upper body. Problem: Mom placed the pillow completely over ME, Sophie! I was suffocating! It was like one of those horror movies where the perp grabs a pillow and holds it firmly over the victim! Mom's arm had that pillow pinned down over me! My poor, sad, Sophie Life flashed before my eyes. My first family that I thought loved me, but abandoned me to the shelter. The cold, hard days of Me, Queen Sophine, living in a chain-link enclosed kennel run, lonely and depressed. Meeting Oldest Lad and living the tenuous life as Rental Dog Sophie, wondering if I would ever be adopted and if the family would appreciated me and my need to be utterly adored. My adoption by Mom when I became Rent-to-Own Sophie.
After an eternity, Mom realized something was amiss; and she pulled the pillow away, leaving me gasping for air. She "said" she was sorry, but was she? I shall have to spend the day pondering if Mom had a sudden change of heart in her plan to do me in, or if she really just suddenly figured out there was a Sophie Ball underneath her pillow.
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Jeez, are you ok? Lacka air to breeth causes draim bamage or sumfin.
Now I know dat I are right to sleep at da foot of da bed!
Nose toward the fresh air. BOL.