A Day With My Mommy-by Sophie

Hello everybody. I’m Sophie; Eva’s baby Sophie…or is it Lily? Lily Eva? Lilica? I get so confused. She tells people  they’re ‘pen names’. What are those, anyway? I don’t really care, so I guess it doesn’t matter. That’s not why I’m here. She can call herself twenty different names; she’s still Mommy to me.

I took her computer while she decided to do some things around the house because I needed to vent. Since Mommy does it all the time, I figure there’s some merit to it. I’ll pretend to know exactly what I’m doing because I’m a Lhasa Apso, after all, from Tibet you know. My ancestors were sentinel dogs for Buddhist monks way, way back in the day. Indoor dogs, of course. (We are the little breed, averaging 14-16 pounds by adulthood.) Our keen sense of hearing and distinct, larger-than-me bark would alert the monks of intruders. We left the real guarding of the outside of the monasteries to the big boys: the Tibetan Mastiffs. But again, I’m off my topic.

Mommy. I don’t know what I’m gonna do with her. I love her with all my heart. When she was sick in the hospital, the doctors and nurses  let me go and see her a couple of times. I’m grateful for that, and I’m sure Mommy is too, even though she doesn’t remember.  SophietoyWhen she has her bad days, I’m always there kissing her tears away, snuggling up next to her, and laying on her lap. Stuff like that. I even try being obedient. When she gives me commands, I listen. Sometimes. When she tells me to sit, I sit. Especially when she is holding treats in her hand… Sorry, I lost myself there for a minute.

On her good days though, I want her undivided attention. Is that too much to ask? What’s with the one-handed belly rubs while she’s working away on the computer? I should be getting ALL the attention. I mean, doesn’t she understand that I’m special? Ancient, even. Wikipedia says so! I used to guard Monks for cripes sakes! Not only that, but I AM the baby of the house. My sister, Mandy, is married and lives in NJ with her husband. She’s way old and human. She’s like twenty something in human years.

If she’s not typing away on her computer, she’s either reading an ebook on her Kindle or a real one. Then she goes writing stuff in her stupid notebook. I guess she likes to review what she reads. I dunno. She’s been taking classes and has been with her nose in the computer or notebook almost all the time. Even when she plays with me, it’s like she’s only half playing with me. She throws me my monkey while she’s on the computer and that’s how we play. It’s like she’s not even into it. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.

By Lilly M [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

Even worse, it’s bad enough that this doctor, called a veterinarian, says that I have a sensitive stomach. Most of the time, I have to eat this stuff called Hills Science Diet for Sensitive Stomach so I don’t throw up as much. It’s good, don’t get me wrong; I do like it. She usually cheats with me on the weekend, allowing me a Cesar’s breakfast on Saturday and Sunday morning. Today I was supposed to have Steak and Eggs for breakfast; I had Sausage and Eggs instead.  What’s up with that? Focus, Mom.

Let me not get started with the groomers. My breed usually has very long hair, at least that’s what you will see in the dog shows when you see my breed. Mommy didn’t want me for show, so she keeps me in a ‘puppy cut’. I never liked going to the groomers and I hate that she still makes me go. She makes them clip my nails, my ear hairs and put stupid bows in when they’re done. The only reason I always forgive her, is because she always buys me extra treats and a toy on grooming day.

What really got me mad was Mommy’s blogger friend Karen Soutar’s cat misbehaves and then she comes and tells me “I guess I’m not the only one with a bad, bad baby.” Um, I’m sorry. What? She’s going to compare me to…CATS?!?! Personally, I don’t have anything against them since I’ve never met one personally, but I hear they’re pretty uppity, aloof, and conceited. I’m not any of those things.

I’m not trying to sound like a spoiled brat, but I need to find a better way to grab Mommy’s attention. Pee-ing outside the wee-wee pad hasn’t helped. It’s only annoyed her. Any suggestions?

 

 

 

 

 

Weekly Photo Challenge – Companionable

When I think of a companion, I immediately think of my little blue-eyed wonder, Sophie. She is my constant companion and has been with me through my best times and definitely my lowest and scariest times. She is one of my greatest sources of strength.
Princess Sophie hanging out on the deck. While I was in Neurosurgical ICU, she came to visit me twice. Although I can’t recall the visits in detail, I have seen the pictures. She laid by my side on my hospital bed the visit. I don’t know what I would do without that little one. I can’t count how many times I have cried into that little ball of fur, how many times I’ve tickled and rubbed that belly, or how many times she has licked my tears away. Too many to count, no doubt.

That kind of love is unconditional in the truest sense of the word. That is a companion.