Guest Post: Miss Sophie Writes…..

A note from the paws of Miss Sophie:

Miss Sophie Ru

Miss Sophie Ru

These people, I sure have a hard time figuring them out sometimes.  They know my name, and yet, they call me “No” and “Stop It” almost more than they call me Sophie.

And it’s not like I picked out that name for myself or anything–they chose it.  If I’d had my druthers I would be called Geraldine.  Yeah.  I like that name.

Anyway, yesterday they said, “Bed,” and I went and they gave me my treat on command.  I’ve got them trained well.  When I sit in my bed, I wait, and they give me a treat.  It’s a pretty sweet deal actually.  They left for a few hours and when they came home, I could hardly believe my eyes.

And I have pretty good vision.

The people brought a tree in the house.  You know, one of those things that lives outside that I like to sniff around and eat things out from under?  In. the. house.  Well!  I mean, these are the same folks who take their shoes off in the house and flip out if I go anywhere near the mud puddles way back in the yard behind our house.

I don’t get it.

It immediately started shedding, something I can proudly say I do not do.  It was pretty disgusting.  The Fella promptly vacuumed it up.  I actually chose not to bark while he was vacuuming this time, and the people didn’t notice or anything.  Really?  Fine.  Next time then…..

After all of the hullabaloo about getting this tree in the house, I watched as the Fella brought in a big box of things on the ends of green wire.  (I like green wire.  I like wire.  Twist ties are my favorite, but they never let me play with one for long.)  They spent much time discussing these things and untangling them.  It was torture.  They did all of this beside the tree which they put in the room I’m not allowed in.  Honestly, you mistake a rug for a piddle pad once or three times too many…..

After things were untwisted, the people talked some more.  The one they all call Mama, the one who sits up with me late at night, kept saying the letters, “LED” over and over and wrinkling up her nose like she does when she tells me my toy is “nasty.” (It’s not, it’s delicious.)  I don’t think she cares for whatever that LED thing is.  The Fella took several of those strand thingies outside and the littles went with him.  Then the one they call Mama twisted the rest of the wire thingies all around that tree.

Can you imagine what that’s even about?

When she was done, she stood back and then flipped a switch.


They’ve been doing some pretty crazy things around here, like putting some lights in different places and putting these red and green things all over the place, but this was amazing.

It was all lit up, that tree, only there was no fire like what the one they call Mama turns on in the living room at night.  These were all sparkly and warm and I wanted to crawl right under that tree, drink from that big water bowl, and gaze up at the twinkly lights.    And look for treats…..

Tonight they went through a box, each one of them, and they hung things on the tree.  It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.

That tree--INSIDE the house with lights all over it!  Have you ever heard of such?

That tree–INSIDE the house with lights all over it! Have you ever heard of such?

And they won’t let me anywhere near it.  I can’t imagine why.

They keep me away from everything fun–the trash can, the mud puddles, and now this–this tree.

I just don’t get it.

But tonight I’m thankful my people are back home and that it looks like we’re going to bed a little earlier tonight.  I’m thankful for the food in my bowl and the water in my dish, but I still think that tree offers a lovely new eating venue.

Most of all, I’m thankful for the happy faces and the singing of songs that keeps happening around here.  It seems like they are more relaxed these days.  And happy, relaxed people make for a happy Sophie.

Love and barks to all.


*Note from Tara: As I was stringing the lights on the tree this morning, I saw Miss Sophie watching intently from the other side of the gate.  I wondered what she thought of all of the goings on, and she was more than happy to share.  Tonight I’m thankful for that.  And for a word my Daddy taught me long, long ago.  Anthropomorphism.  I love that word.   Love to all.  

Ode To My Pajama Pants

My pajama pants.  And their pocket.

My pajama pants. And their pocket.

This.  This made me smile.  And giggle.

I mean, there’s a pocket.

On my pajama pants.

I’ve never seen such before.

Isn’t that precious?

And–shhh, don’t let them hear us talking–a bit unnecessary?

I mean, I don’t know about the rest of you, but when I put on my pajama pants, I’m all about the sleep.  As we say around here when we get tired and giddy or cranky, “I need to use the sleep.”  I can’t fathom anything that I would do once I don the pants that would require a pocket.

A back pocket at that.

But these pants are bold.  They are brave.  They are ready–they are outside the box of what is normally expected of pajama pants.  They say, “Hey, if something comes up, and we need to dash quickly, I got this.  No need to change back into those other pants–those uncomfortable ones…..Not only am I comfortable, but I’m functional too.  Look, I have a pocket.”

Yeah, you do.

Over the years, I’ve been known to call my pajama bottoms “silly pants.”  And y’all, if we are honest here, isn’t a back pocket on pajamas really silly?


Or is it?

Maybe, just maybe, this pocket, these pants with what looks unnecessary, maybe they should inspire me instead.  To step outside the norm, beyond what is expected, and be unique.  Original.  Be me.  Even if it looks like I’m a bit off or odd or eccentric.  There’s nothing wrong with being different, even if folks might laugh.

Ah, I’m sorry, Pajama Pants.

So what’s your back pocket?  What about you makes you stand out?  What’s different?  What makes you, YOU?

Embrace it.  Love it.  Accept and celebrate who you are.  Let the whole world see your “back pocket.”  Who cares if folks think it’s crazy.  Off the wall.  It’s what makes you you, and that’s as perfectly wonderful as it can get.

And–do the same for others.  Let them be who they are.  Maybe their back pockets work for them and give them hope.  You never know.



*****Tonight’s post was, as my Mama used to say, just for the fun of it.  (And then she’d say, if it’s not fun, don’t do it.  I hear you, Mama.  Thanks.  Love you.)

Love to all.