Super Bowl Brute!

Yesterday afternoon, I started out on a seemingly pleasant walk with Pennie, Dad, Little Lad and Wee Lass. We were rapidly waylaid at a neighbor's house.
That is where I had my first introduction to Pennie's friend, Calbert. Only I shall call him CalBrute!

Pennie and Calbert ran off to play and roughhouse happily. Calbert is now an 80 pound blond, chow-setter 10 month old over-grown Pup. He has zero manners. His main goal was to dominate me.

Pennie has played with CalBrute since he was but a 10 week old ball of fluff. At that time she was 3 times his size and immediately showed that SHE, Pennie, was dominant. Being stupid, CalBrute has not realize that he now outweighs Pennie by 33 pounds (for Dog's sake, Calbert is equal to one Pennie, plus one Sophie!) CalBrute still thinks Pennie is the dominant Dog.

I ended up huddling in a corner, protecting my personal privates, and NOT enjoying my Super Bowl Walk.

By way of some small satisfaction, I did later on go to a REAL Super Bowl Party and used my endearing cuteness to beg a sickening amount of chips.

Sophii Mii

Mom created a Mii for me on her Wii Fat Plus, I mean Wii Fit Plus. But here's the thing: no Brindle choices! The Sophii has ended up looking just like a smaller version of Pennii. And Pennii doesn't really look much like Pennie due to the limited choices.

The Lads have downloaded Mii versions of: Darth Vader, Yoko Ono, Indiana Jones, Garfield, and Odie, just to name a few.

For all the advanced technology that goes into Nintendo, a Dog would think there would be enough choices to make an accurate Sophii.

Metaphorically Challenged

I, Queen Sophine, have been rudely and considerably acted against in a most grammatical way.

Last night, Little Lad was doing his homework. The topic was "metaphors." For those who are grammatically challenged, let me refresh: a metaphor involves the comparison of items without using the words "like" or "as."

Little Lad was to come up with as many Metaphors as he could, in particular involving family members.

"Pennie's tail is a waving sword."

"Pennie's tongue is a face mop."

"Pennie's beauty is as a lovely rose."

"Sophie's fur bears tiger stripes."

That's a 3:1 ratio, of Pennie to Queen Sophine!

Oh, sure, Little Lad is just getting the hang of Metaphors, and his Metaphors may not even BE Metaphors, but did he have to just be so plain RUDE? I thought Public School these days taught "Inclusion." Yet, here I am sadly less-included in the Metaphors!

If Little Lad does not improve, then I shall surely resort to the age-old tactic that dogs everywhere employ to air grievances against their school-aged family members: I shall eat his homework.

What I want to do

This is what I want to do:
Go to the Grocery Store.

Mom hates going to the grocery store.
She hates taking Wee Lass with her to the grocery store.
Wee Lass hates going to the grocery store, even though she gets a bag of cookies at the beginning and gets to eat her way through the shopping experience!

I would LOVE to go to the grocery store. I would NOT complain. I would NOT whine. I would not complain about putting the groceries away when I got home.
I would never, ever, not once ask for a non-grocery item, like stupid Silly Bandz or a Balloon.

I would be the Perfect Grocery Store Companion.

I can behave any way I want

Today the Lads were home from school. Middle Lad had a friend over: Buddy. When Buddy came to the door, I was very friendly. I even let him rub me while he and Middle Lad played piano together. I joined Buddy and Middle Lad in the basement while they played video games.

Later on I grew bored and came upstairs to nap on the couch.

Buddy and Middle Lad came upstairs.

Oh No! There was a stranger in the house! I barked and barked! Mom wondered if I forgot who Buddy was while I was napping.

What about a Heated Carriage?

As one can see from my recent photo, I do look quite Queen-like when dressed in my Princess garb.
Shouldn't I then expect a Royal Heated Carriage?

This morning Mom wore: pajama bottoms, jeans, pajama top, fleece shirt, wool socks, boots, mid-weight coat, down mittens, and a hat.

Sophie wore: harness and crocheted sweater.

I walked for about 5 minutes until we hit the end of the sidewalk and were walking in the street. Then I began to limp. Mom thought perhaps I had Salt in my paw pads from the pavement. We turned around.

I was certain we were heading for home.

Then we passed right on by My House! I stopped limping once we were back on the salt-free, although snow-covered sidewalk, but I was still cold! Mom insisted on walking past the house, in the opposite direction, for about a walk of probably about a mile!

Trust me, I was growling "off with her head!" under my breath by the time I finally returned to my heated Castle.

Intelli-Sophie

I am exhausted with all the intelligence I absorbed today! Mom and Little Lad were playing a game called QWIRKLE. It has little colored tiles that they were playing with on the floor. I played on Mom's side. I really wanted Mom to win, so I helped her cheat by laying on some of her tiles. Despite my help, Mom still lost. What is a Sophie Dog to do?

Then the Tutor came over. At first I was really, really worried. Middle Lad can be very troublesome, what with forgetting his assignments, and needing to be reminded at least 729 times to practice his piano and saxophone, but to just get him Tutored? And since when did Home Tutoring start? I am pretty confidant it is usually done at a Vet's office or a clinic.

I most relieved when I realized it was a Geometry Tutor, not a "gulp" Male-Part Tutor. It seems like most male dogs don't miss anything after their Tutoring, but Middle Lad? I think just a low Geometry Grade doesn't warrant such a full scale assault.

Regardless, I had to sniff and inspect the Geometry Tutor thoroughly. Then I listened in. I am now certain I know more about Geometry than Middle Lad. Perhaps I can get that Router to Triangulate and keep the Internet running.

Dogs Versus WiFi

DOGS!
I was one of those dogs left at the shelter due to one of the typically lame human excuses: Moving.

I am not sure why Pennie was brought to the Shelter.

Oh, the list is endless. Mulligan was found wandering the streets and was lucky enough to be found, skin and bones, by a Shelter volunteer.

Tyler was abandoned at a Boarding Kennel. His humans divorced and they never came back for him!

I just never anticipated this latest threat: WiFi.

To be more exact, it is the WiFi Routers that are to blame. My new home is a "wireless community," with a Router that somehow connects the computers, SmartPhones, Wii, and Dog knows what, to the Internet.

The problem? It doesn't Route half the time. (And I shall not name names, but this is not some cheap Router, either.)

According to the Thursday, December 23, 2010, Wall Street Journal, the problems with Routers is well known. The article is titled: "No Signal: Homes Often Baffle Wi-Fi From Routers."

Here is the pertinent excerpt from the article: "Every home is a different combination of size, building materials and potential competition for precious wireless bandwidth, such as other Wi-Fi networks and cordless phones. Even pets can obstruct signals."

There it is. "Even pets can obstruct signals."

How many dogs (or cats) will end up in shelters because their owner's internet ran slow too many times? Or their Smart Phone was Stupid? Or their Movie wouldn't load onto NetFlix?

Will we soon just be considered "signal blockers?"

That Santa Man

Pennie and I visited That Santa Man today.

I couldn't think of a thing to say! I felt like Ralphie from "A Christmas Story." All I could hear was the noise of "HO HO HO" ringing in my ears, while I wanted to say "I want an Official Red Ryder BB Gun with a Compass in the Stock."

Only "I" don't want a Red Ryder BB Gun. Pennie does. Pennie wants a Red Ryder BB Gun so she can finally catch a squirrel. Or perhaps The Cat that always hangs out by the play set.

ME? I couldn't ask for a Red Ryder BB Gun or anything else! I was a quivering mess!

I did sit nicely for the picture, and accepted kind words from the photographers, but I forget to tell Santa what I wanted!

Bark

I am disappointed in my bark. The family assures me that I am "big and brave," but I have a high pitched, although loud, bark.

This is not meant as a criticism of other dogs who have high-pitched barks. Chihuahuas and many Terrierists such as Yorkies and Rat Terrierests have high-pitched barks. Their high-pitch is actually an early warning of their inherent threat, much like many poisonous frogs have bright colored skin as a warning: don't eat or lick the poisonous frog or death will follow.

All who have insulted any of the terrierist breeds know that they are the land mines, the Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs) of the Canine World, ready to explode at any moment.

But ME, Sophie? I am just a 33 pound, shelter mutt. I don't look overtly threatening. I don't have the reputation of a terrierist. And I have a bark that sounds "cute." A bark that makes a human want to lean over and say: "aww, whatcha barkin' at little girl?"

But I am not a little girl. I am big and brave. Perhaps Santa can bring me Voice Lessons.