Sophie and Balto

Balto has been staying with us quite a bit this fall.


It is safe to say that,


even if only by default,



Balto has become her best friend.



Almost.

Caption?

Well hello there.

Is it safe to blog again?

Are those Japanese porn people gone?

Sophie Swimming in the Swimming Pool

Poor Sophie.

Humiliated in the back seat of her own car.

Guess Who?

On Tuesday, I will see this beast, she will ignore me, and everything will be back to normal.

I can't wait.

Sophie is not in Paris
And that is a sad thing. I miss her.

I have been here for more than a week and despite all the stories you hear about dogs in Paris, I am in serious canine withdrawal. There are plenty of dogs, but none that you get to actually pet. The French are a little reserved about this sort of thing. Perhaps that is why I dreamed about a lost, sandy-coloured Cairn Terrier the other night. One who, despite his dog tag, had no owner and I had to take him back to Montreal with me.





So yesterday, I was walking along Rue de Buci in the St. German area when what do I spot in front of me, trotting along like he owns the place? A sandy-coloured Cairn Terrier, with no owner in sight. But he did have a tag, just like in my dream.

I followed the dog for two blocks or so and then lost him, so I wandered back up the street, intent on a table at a cafe I'd seen early.

What a strange coincidence that had been, but I settled at my table, with a glass of beer and a collection of short stories I am still not sure about when ......

who should sauntered up?

The Cairn Terrier!

I was kind of freaking inside a little. How weird is this?

He walked into the cafe like he owned the place,
made the rounds inside,
then came back out and plopped down under my table.

At this point, I was really beginning to wonder if I had in fact developed special premonitory powers.

I was considering where one might find a toilettage de chien in the 6th arrondissement for a bath and brush before his plane ride to Montreal.

As it turns out, the Cairn Terrier is named Orson does own the place. Or at least his owner does. He belongs to the proprietor of the cafe.
He is king of Rue de Buci and strolls the hood, cleaning up scraps of food on the street and greeting all the other pups.

Woosh

Happy Birthday
Sophie Brador

11 Years Old
May 31, 2010

Sophie's Therapy Dog Evaluation

She failed.

She doesn't care.
She doesn't need a special vest (she is a nudist after all) or a hospital pass.
She still got a cookie out of the deal. She was just a wee bit too grabby about how she took that cookie.

This guy passed, and he was the most awesome Bull Mastiff with even more awesome spittle.

That BMD and those Shelties passed too.
But the important thing to note here is that Sophie sat beside that BMD the whole afternoon and did not even once try to kill her. She should have passed based on that alone.

This is Charlie. He is a super cute, super high energy Border Collie/Aussie Sheppy cross. He passed and still wanted to play.

Sophie may not get a therapy dog vest, but she will continue to therapize in her own special way, by just being there and being a beautiful and unique beast.

Sophie is Perfect and Fine

No cancer here.

She was only kidding when she started puking and pooping, a lot.

Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.

There is still something wrong with her liver, because of it being too small and all.

But provided she feels great, like she is now, she will simply take a liver support ...



... and continue to be fabulous.

Sophie Goes to School

She doesn't go to class with me. She usually hangs out with other profs while I am in teaching, and then goes for a big hangout on the campus lawn afterward.

Here she is lounging with the dead nuns, who live next door.

Here, she is just looking gorgeous.

We are still waiting for the results of her biopsy, so don't know yet if her world will be turned upside down.

In the meantime, Sophie promotes good health by feeding her tennis ball addiction. Beats smoking.

Here is me last week on Av. de Chateaubriand in Montreal,
with all my furs intact.

Here is me today, on Rue Marie Anne,
after furs were stolen.

Here is the wacky yard around the corner from my house,
for your amusement.

And just in case you are wondering about those missing furs, some lousy vet stole them and then did an ultrasound and a biopsy on my liver and lymph nodes. I've been feeling poorly. We know that my liver is too small and my nodes are too big (so whose been greedy?), but we don't know anything really until we get the biopsy results. In the meantime, I am doing really well, now that I am not puking or pooping, and think this is all a bunch of hoopla for noopla.


Sending only happy thoughts and all our best wishes to Wally's family in DE and NE.

Although Sophie hates the drive,
going to work with me will usually bring a smile to her face.

This is Why

Lunch with the IT Guys

Her usual haul?

Bits of tuna fish sammies, pears, apples, and left over yogurts.

Sophie Does Boston

Again

Sophie loves going to Boston. Not only does she get to hang with great buddies, but she gets to stay at fabulous hotels and get treated like the diva she is.

She loved napping in the window while keeping an eye on the Charles River.


Here you can see Sophie at attention, prepared to defend all of Cambridge, Boston and Brookline from the invading Canada Geese she spotted on her walk.



And should she wake up during her guard duties, she can also admire herself.

_____

The Day Before

Sophie's first order of business upon arriving in Boston was to meet up with her pals at the Arnold Arboretum for a leisurely, action-packed walk through the woods.


Toffee & Riley were there.


Archie was there.


And of course, Agatha was there.







Sophie lost her tennis ball went it floated down the rapids of the little creek, but she didn't let it put a damper on her good time.




There is also video of Agatha going to ground and investigating her favourite log, which will be screened separately. The author of this post is afraid that you can only take so much action in one day and believe me, the action is just getting started.

Everyone knows that Sophie frequently dislikes other dogs, for no reason whatsoever (I.E.: Bernese Mountain Dogs, Golden Retrievers, assorted big dogs with curls), but it somehow seems beyond her brain power to imagine that anyone would feel the same about her.

I'd like to say that Sophie found out the hard way to keep her nose out of Riley's business, but she still hasn't noticed her ear.

She still thinks of Riley as the same sweet little boy she's always known. And look at the handsome profile. Can you blame her? He's a doll.

There was a small issue of Archie agreeing to be her bodyguard, but it's kind of one of those if a tree falls sort of things. If Sophie never noticed that Riley bit her, did Riley really bite her, and did her body really need guarding?

Sophie needed to take a moment to meditate on that question.

Her conclusion? Sophie loves Archie. He's a sweet kid and all, but she actually thinks Agatha would make a far better body guard. She's also thinking of hiring Riley next time she needs protection. She says her intuition tells her he might be good at it.

_____

For the record, Sophie's ear is just fine. And she still hasn't noticed.