Privacy, Please!

Pennie and I usually accompany Mom to the Indoor Backyard. One of us almost always supervises her in there, or the very least, waits in the adjoining room. Mom usually uses the Indoor Backyard that is upstairs.

I am quite certain there is no escape from the Indoor Backyard, but I must make sure that Mom is never left unattended for fear that she will attempt to escape her life of Repression.

Anyway, Little Lad and Middle Lad are now home for Summer Vacation. The Wee Las was only going to Preschool two days a week, which hardly counted, but she has been done for several weeks anyway.

It is MY job (or Pennie's job) to be Mom Monitor. Instead, while Mom is using the Indoor Backyard, there is a constant stream of interruptions: inevitably Little Lad will start yelling: "Mom, Mom, MOOOOOM!" He will relentlessly hunt Mom down until he discovers the closed bathroom door, and then insist on having a conversation with Mom. Yesterday, Middle Lad, despite Mom requesting for him to "take a message," insisted on giving Mom the phone while she was in the bathroom. (The Wee Lass, meanwhile, is smart enough to use this unsupervised time to get into trouble with something she is not supposed to be doing.)

I must insist on an end to this disruption of Mom and Sophie time. It is MY job to be Mom Monitor. It is MY time to spend with Mom, and I do not care for these ceaseless interruptions.

Brindle on the Tracks!

Mom put away the Thomas/Brio wooden trains that had been spread out all over the living room, and vacuumed.
Then she got out the Duplos. The Wee Lass, Little Lad, and Little Lad Pal settled down to play with the accumulated mass of three Lads plus a Wee Lass collecting Duplo sets over many years.

Surprisingly, there were also train tracks with the Duplos.

Oh, NO! There was a Brindle on the Tracks! I was asked to move. I refused. Mom picked me up and moved me, but true to my nature as Queen Sophine, I had found a comfortable spot, train tracks or no tracks, and I went right back to laying on the tracks.

The TransContinental Railroad was built despite avalanches, mountains, weather, and language barriers; I think that The Wee Lass is just going to have to put up with a Brindle on the Tracks now and again, unless she finds a stray stick of dynamite to move me.

Street Ownership

This morning, as Pennie and I walked Mom, we simply avoided a certain cul de sac. The first house on this cul de sac is guarded by two small white dogs who have an electronic fence that gives them the run of the whole yard. Their house is actually not the first house on the street, but the first house, across the street, has no dog(s), so all are free to pass.

My first question is: what will these two dogs do when the vacant lot next to them, which will be the TRUE First House, is sold, and is built upon, and these dogs no longer "own" the street?

Question two: what will these two dogs do if the house across the street, which is "for sale" is sold to a family with a dog or dogs?

We just don't usually bother to go up this cul de sac, for it is not worth the ruckus these two dogs make, and quite frankly, Pennie and I "own" our portion of our street, so I suppose even I must cede ownership of this street to these other dogs.

Our house is not a Corner Lot, but IS a Stop Sign. There is simply no doubt that it is Pennie and Sophie Territory. The house next door will probably never have a dog, as their owner is not fond of dogs. (Shameful.)

I suppose these two little dogs will be in for a rude awakening sometime soon, so in the meantime, I will let them simply "own" their street, for there are far more interesting places to walk, such as where the geese hang out, than that silly cul de sac, anyway.

Some humans never pleased.

This past school year has been most challenging for Middle Lad, and one of the chief contributors has been Geometry. I did not arrive on the scene until November, but I do hope that I was able to add valuable contribution to this heroic endeavor. We even had to hire a human tutor!

This morning is the fateful final exam in Geometry. Middle Lad has been working tortuously all week on exam studying, and torturing all of us as well.

Last night, as part of Pennie's Educational Plan, Pennie and I used the TET method (Transcendental Educational Tutoring) ALL NIGHT LONG. It would appear that we were merely slumbering, but we were TETing.

(Incidentally, Middle Lad sleeps in a loft, so no dog can sleep with him. Also, he has strong environmental allergies, so Mom discourages dog-sleeping, not due to "us" but because we may have pollens upon our fur.)

And Pennie and I were using TET in: a Geometric Fashion.

I thought it was utterly brilliant on the part of Pennie and I.

We slept in Parallel Lines.

Sophie Straight Line.
Mom Straight Line.
Pennie Straight Line.
Dad Straight Line.

All we got for our efforts was whining from Dad because Pennie crossed over onto Dad's side of the bed. For Dog's sake the rest of the family has been working hard for Middle Lad's Grades, could Dad not have a Dog on his side of the bed for one night?

Secret Snoring

I, Queen Sophine, snore. Not only do I snore, but I mutter. There have been several nights that Dad has accused Mom of snoring. Mom, who admits to snoring on occasion, has been most bewildered because at the time she was not even asleep. Then one evening while I lay in Mom's lap, crooning softly, Mom asked Dad: "Is this what you hear?" Dad realized that he was wrongfully accusing Mom, and it was Me, Queen Sophine, who was delicately crooning to him a lullaby of slumber.

The family "thought" that Pennie had all dogs beat by her voracious snoring. With Pennie's long snout, great roars thunder throughout the house.

Then the family met me. However, my snoring is a blessing that I bestow upon all to hear. The family should be thankful to be graced by hearing the lullaby of my breathing.

My only worry? What Royal Secrets might I accidentally reveal while I mutter in my sleep? Is my family trustworthy to keep quiet about my royal thoughts? Or perhaps my mutterings are too complex for them to understand, anyway, and my secrets are safe, though muttered.

End of the World Yard Sale?

Dad let Pennie and Me outside this morning, in the front yard. We immediately raised the Neighborhood Watch Alarm. Two houses down the street the neighbors were having a Yard Sale. There has not been much in the way of Yard Sales this Spring, as the endless rain has made such activities uninspiring.

I suppose that this family decided that if Armageddon is today, then they would no longer be needing their yard, or their earthly possessions, so they were busy selling them to Atheists and assorted Non-Believers.

It was quite entertaining to bark, bark, bark at only 7:45 am at these throngs of Atheists and Non-Believer Bargain Hunters. Mom would normally immediately march Pennie and Me back inside the house, but she finds it annoying that such bargain hunters park on both sides of the street, blocking free access to Suburbia, so she let Pennie and I Raise the Alarm.

Eating Octopus O's

The letter of the week at Wee Lass' preschool was "O." Or it could be the Zero Hero. It was difficult to tell. All that I could determine was that the Wee Lass used an overabundant amount of glue in glueing the "O" or Zero Hero cereal down on the construction paper octopus arms. Regardless of the glueing power, I was still able to nibble off the "O's" or Zero Heroes.

Just because I am Queen Sophine, and have spent many days at University with Oldest Lad does not mean that I am above giving myself the mental stimulation of alphabet and/or numeric input combined with sugary sweet temptation to improve my intellectual prowess.

Diary of the Day

As befitting Royalty, I, Queen Sophine, am Diary of the Day, today!

Thankfully I was rescued from my Exile at the Dog Shelter some months ago, to be attended to by my adoring Minions, I mean family, that I rule over in a loving and gracious way.

I do fear that I shall not garner the utter adoration that I deserve from my family today. There is a dog visitor, Daisy. Daisy belongs to a housemate of Oldest Lad. Oldest Lad and his friends have gone off to Louisville to huddle with the masses in the Infield of the Kentucky Derby. We shall NOT be watching the Kentucky Derby for fear of viewing any candid shots of Oldest Lads and his friends and what ill-mannered antics they may succumb to while amongst the Infield Crowd. (Or perhaps it should be the Infidel Crowd.)

Daisy is NOT happy to be our house=guest. She has been here many times before, but always with Oldest Lad in attendance. She is very much smitten with her Own Man, but will accept the attentions of Oldest Lad when her Own Man is not around. Unfortunately, neither Oldest Lad or Daisy's Own Man are here, but gone off to engage in bad behavior.

Daisy has been pacing and whining, and clearly stating that she is not happy. Perhaps she too, is worried about seeing crowd shots of the Kentucky Derby, and viewing Oldest Lad, Daisy's Own Man, and their friends engaged in licentious behavior.

In the meantime, Mom is trying her best to make Daisy feel better, and attend to HER needs, not ME, Queen Sophine, despite my royal status AND now the royal honor of Diary of the Day.

Showed HIM whom Queen Sophine IS!

Tonight that overgrown Mutt, Calbert, stopped by. He is a mix of Golden Retriever and Chow, and now weighs around 100 pounds.

He has NO manners.

As soon as he knocked on the door, Pennie ran outside and began racing around the yard with him. I stepped outside to say "Hi!" and Calbert immediately attempted to Hump Me. I huddled my bottom firmly to the concrete of the porch until Mom felt sorry for me and let me in the house. There I sat, peering out from the glass door, looking royally on at the show of Pennie and Calbert playing. Then Middle Lad insisted that I go back outside.

That's when I decided I had enough of Calbert's antics. I put my snout right in his face, curled back my lips, and barked! Calbert looked at me, stunned. Then he ran off.

I, Queen Sophine, am going to be Big and Brave, and I am NOT going to let some overgrown Sasquatch hump me on my own front porch!

I don't care, I am Queen Sophine!

First off, with the Royal Wedding coming up, I expect to be treated like the Royalty that I am this week! Maybe I just ACT like a Queen, but this is Royals Week, and I expect Royal Treatment.

Thunderstorms continue. and continue. ad nauseum.

The Weather Radio goes off so frequently that it is almost as if NOAA Woman Static Voice and NOAA Man Static Voice have become members of the family, interjecting their Weather Opinions into our daily conversations even if the topic isn't even about weather. And why do their voices always have to be full of Static? NOAA Woman and NOAA Man are so demanding -- the radio blares that stupid weather warning sound, and they get to interrupt, without even having to say "excuse me."

Mom actually wanted some SPACE last night. Mom has a cold, and would one believe she did not want Pennie and I laying all over her?

Absolutely ridiculous.

First off, we had to administer Compression Therapy, with both Compression and Healing Vapors.

Second, does either Pennie or I really care about Mom's need for Personal Space? No. Mom finally gave up and succumbed to the weather-related neediness of Pennie and Me.