This is Sophie. She is our dog. We consider her part of the family.
Sophie was mine before I married. She is going on thirteen years old. She is a shelter dog. When I saw her, she was to be put down the next day. Instead, she came home with me...and has been with me ever since.
She has seen boyfriends enter and exit. A husband. And two babies come home with me. She is loyal and true. I know that I will never have another dog as perfect as Sophie.
Since Sophie has always been in The Boy and The Girl's life, I think they have come to see her as more than a pet. They see her as another sibling. All siblings blame each other. If there is a chance you might get in trouble you blame a sibling. At least that's the way it plays-out in this house. The Boy blames The Girl, The Girl blames The Boy, and so on.
Enter Sophie. When the blaming of each other won't work, the next logical step is to blame the dog. Our dear pet has been the blame for numerous offenses, including but not limited to:
fruit snacks found under The Boy's bed
*toys of all sorts left around
the house, in the yard, and in the car
*a mysterious cut made with scissors
on the arm of The Girl's Teddy
*the backyard gate opening so that
The Boy could explore the world
at the end of the block
*a flood left on the floor of
the bathroom during bath time
Sophie's most recent indiscretion involves the toilet. We have had a plumber come to our house twice this month to fish a toy out of the pipes. Children have been warned, scolded, and threatened. This last time the plumber worked for over an hour to get the offending item out to no avail.
The solution: one shiny new toilet.
Apparently, according to The Boy and The Girl, our old, overweight, partially blind, and slightly senile dog not only dropped a toy into the toilet but managed to flush it as well.they're sticking to it.
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