I cannot fathom life without this dog. I can't. You can't make me. She is the pea to our carrots, she is the jam to our peanut butter. But Ol' Girl is pushing maximum age, especially for her breeds.
She had a tough day today, was the report I got upon arriving home. She just can't seem to get comfortable, sleeping a ton over the past couple weeks. Most of the pictures we have of Sophs are during slumber. Parents of pups might think because that is the only time she is still and will sit long enough for a photo. Falsies. It is because that is what she does ALL THE TIME. Snoring, gaseous excretions, old guy lip smacking in her sleep, and running man dreams.
I am pretty sure that part of her lack of hearing is on purpose, but some of it has to be real. The fake part? Yeah, she is a total sleep fibber. Exhibit A: She no longer comes upstairs and sleeps in our room at night. That began a year ago as the stairs were just too steep for her to navigate down. We could help her back end up, but she was too scared and shaky to come down on her own and too stubborn to let us help her safely (i.e. carry 100 pounds of dog down the stairs. Kinda glad it worked out this way.)
When I come down every morning about 6:30, she makes no sudden movements, no noise. I get her breakfast ready, and our breakfast ready and do puttery stuff and then the last thing is to go and wake her up...most days. Sometimes, I let her sleep in because she can and I am a nice human. But, when I lift her blanket off her, and she is fighting waking up.....hand to God, it's like she is a teenager. Burrowing under the blanket, snuffling, exasperated huffing, puffing, sighing, sneezing, every manner of communication to explain her displeasure. And this is before her eyes are open. She pretends she is still sleeping until she realizes that I am not going away because of all her shenanigans.
Then, the games truly begin. I might try and "help" her my lifting the blanket corner a little, as if I was a magician and going to pull the tablecloth off the table and leave the place settings there. Ala Kazam! In her youth, she would spring up and make me feel really crappy that she thought I would do something so mean-spirited. Then, in her middle ages, I used it as a threat to get her ass up. Now, it doesn't even make her flinch and even if it did, there is not much spring left in Sophers.
Now, she just uses the momentum from me lifting up one side to turn over to her other side. If she could have toddler noodle limbs, she would. We do a little dance of me trying to "help" her get up by lifting up her limp ass and her flopping back and forth trying to burrow under the blankets and away from my meddlesome ways.
Eventually, I win. Then there is what I used to think was the dramatic march to the front door to go outside (Now, I think she is just old.). You know the type, parents of humans.....Resigned, defeated, she is making me go on the Bataan Death March AGAIN. But, usually it is with human children going to bed and fighting it or human teenagers going anywhere with their parents and fighting it. With Sophie, it is becoming awake in the morningtime.
Once outside, and back in to check madam's food bowl for the choice morsels, it is back to bed. Saturday, I was home for the morning. We had gone to "Quantum of Solace" on Friday night and were home late. She went out for the last time midnight-ish. Saturday morning, I let her sleep in as I did lesson planning and puttered doing shores around the house. ELEVEN O'CLOCK, PEOPLE. That is what time she reluctantly hauled her butt out of bed. I. Love. Her.
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