A Dog's Life

Fio was thrilled when Sonia Dog began burying rawhide bones not only in the couch and the newspapers, but OUTSIDE because she is the first dog Fio has ever had who did so.  But recently Sonia has taken to digging up bones from the yard and bringing them inside to chaw on. Fio is not as thrilled.

Sonia Grows Up

Fio walked Sonia Dog twice around the driveway with four deer grazing in the middle of it.  All it took was a stick and a half of PupPeroni and Fiorella's hand under doggie's collar.  Somewhere along the way, Sonia realized that the treat was guaranteed, but she'd never yet caught a deer.

Maybe it's adult maturity setting in,  After all, Sonia will turn twenty-one in dog years next month so she'll be putting all that teen-age nonsense behind her.  She isn't as interested in rawhide bones as she used to be, and she gets querulous if we stay up past her bedtime.

But she's still our sweet baby Sonia.

Sonia's Cigar

Sonia is a real dog.  She buries bones behind the waste paper basket, under pillows, between couch cushions, under Fio's leg, or any other strange and wonderful place into which she can nose a piece of saliva-soggy rawhide.

Doggie gets a new bone every day which she promptly hides, then appeals to Fio to find for her.  Mommy makes a big fuss over locating the bone, re-gifting it it with all due ceremony, and Sonia walks off happy, bone hanging from her mouth like a good cigar.

Ah, if only Fiorella's life could be so good.

A Glance into Fio's Cracked Crystal Ball

What's Fio's prediction for life post-Big Bang Theory?

Maybe Johnny Galecki  and Kaley Cuoco will star in a spin-off featuring Leonard and Penny as a married couple trying to balance his academic career and her show biz aspirations.  And maybe Melissa Rauch (Bernadette) will put in a stint as a talk-show host.  Sheldon is too extreme a character to carry a show without a foil so Jim Parsons, who's already demonstrated his musical chops, will head off for Broadway, following in the nimle footsteps of Neil Patrick Harris.  Amy Farrah Fowler is also too extreme for singular stardom, but Mayim Bialik is so versatile that her pan is always full of fish to fry, in or out of show biz. Howard Wolowitz--Simon Helberg--could fill Michael J. Fox's shoes, but Fio wants to think he'll use that golden voice of his to do voice-overs. And Kunal Nayyar--just like the writers of the show, Fiorella doesn't know what to do with Raj.  Maybe he could join Bones as an intern.

One thing Fiorella knows--whatever she predicts won't happen, just like in the Sally Forth, when what Fio thought was pregnancy turned out to be some sort of seasonal disorder.

Or did it?

Acting Like a Dog

My name is Sonya Wendysdottir and I am a hoarder.  I've turned the area beneath my princess bed into a boneyard, and every time little Bosco latches onto a bone, I take it from him.  When I eat, I drop my current bone beside the feeding dish so I can keep an eye on it.  When Mommy gives Bosco and me each a bone, I drop mine, grab his, and stand guard over both of them.

I act the same way with toys. And with people, shoving Bosco out of the way if Mommy and Daddy try to pet him.

I am Sonya.  I am alpha.  You won't hear me roar, but I do covet.

Sonya Stocks Up for Hard Times

As Fiorella has noted before, Sonya is a bone burier.  She buries them outside in long trenches that she claws out of our rock-hard soil, and she buries/hides them inside behind the big waste basket, in semi-obscure corners, under the leather chests, and between couch cushions.  She's even tried to bury them in the big plush cushion on top of her princess bed, which is a wonder to behold because, of course, pillows don't cooperate, no matter how hard you try.

Her project this  morning has been to bury a bone at Fiorella's feet, in the dregs of the comforter that Fiorella, sitting on the couch, has wrapped around herself.   The loosely quilted fabric is pliable and maneuverable so Sonya has nosed it into protective place above and around her treasure.  Yes, all of her inside work--pushing, prodding, shoving--is done with her nose.  

Who needs hands when you have that skillful a snout?

Sonya, Continued

Those puppy days are flying by fast. The doggie in the mirror no longer holds Sonya's interest, and she's figured out that when Mommy is looking in the glass and talking, the sound is coming from the person, not the reflection. She doesn't chew as much either so there are fewer strange sticks in the house for Mommy to trip on. And Mommy's stigmata are almost all healed.

Obedience-wise, she's caught onto "sit" and "stay" and is working on "leave it" and "heel." Fio and Husband can take her outside with them and trust she won't bound away from them off into the woods. Cleverness-wise, she's figured out how to let herself into the house by leaping up and batting at the door handle.

Fio enjoys Sonya's maturity, but she misses the cuddly little puppy who--uh--dogged her footsteps everywhere she went, the little baby she had to sing to sleep each night.

Oops. Just a minute. A warm, furry mastiff has just leaped on the couch beside her and gone to sleep. Awwwwww.