Sweet Sophie Madberry
Photos by Wagsmore Photography
Sweet Sophie Madberry
I haven’t written much here about our four-legged baby, but believe me when I say our family just would not be complete without her.
When we first met Sophie at the Pulaski County Humane Society almost seven years ago, she had the craziest of crazy hair-dos – and if you’ve ever actually met her you’ll know that’s saying something. She had lived under a trailer for weeks with two big Rottweilers, all three dogs having been abandoned by the cretins who were responsible for them. (We’ll never know what kind of life she lived with those nimnods, but we could tell instantly that she feared most people. The Humane Society folks told us that she had refused to come out for food if anyone was around, even though there could be no question she was hungry.) Anyway, all this under-the-trailer living had resulted in a lot of matted hair and the groomer who tackled that mess shaved her almost to the skin in places and left big sprigs of wild hair in others.
Matt and I went to the Humane Society on a whim one Sunday, not really planning to meet anyone to bring home with us. I was still mourning the loss of one of my best friends in the whole world – my oh-so-much loved schnauzer Alex – and I wasn’t really ready to let another dog in just yet.
We wandered through the shelter, and we were just about to leave when one of the workers there said there was one dog she especially wanted us to see. I don’t know what it was about us that made this woman believe we would be a match but she said she hadn’t shown this dog to many people, even though dogs her size are always in demand. For some reason, though, she thought we needed to meet and she went down the hall to get “Ladybird,” as she was known back then.
We sat in one of those little rooms near the front of the buildings and waited, and when the woman came in with “Ladybird” warned us that she probably wouldn’t come near us because all she had been through made her afraid of almost everyone.
But. Ladybird wasn’t afraid of me at all. As soon as the woman put her on the floor she scampered over to me and climbed right into my lap. She sat there, trembling and looking up at me like I was some kind of savior, and all my resolve about not being ready to love another dog faded right away. I knew in an instant we wouldn’t be leaving that place without her.
Sophie, formerly known as Ladybird
Her hair grew into a more normal look, although she has been known to still have a crazy hair day here and there (Come on, really, don’t we all?).
And she has overcome much of her fear of people – she no longer hides behind us when a stranger approaches – but she is still very shy and she is quick to move away when someone comes too close. (And she barks. A lot. I think that makes her feel big, and I don’t bother telling her she weighs less than 20 pounds. What would be the point?)
When Matt told me he was taking her out for some professional photos with a male photographer she had never seen before, I laughed out loud. I think my response was something like, “Do you think he’s actually going to be able to get a decent picture of her? Without her mouth open mid-bark? And without her running away? Really? Bwahahahaha.”
I think these photos are fantastic, though. I’m really impressed that Steve was able to get these pictures of her looking like she’s just enjoying a lazy afternoon on the banks of the Arkansas River, not a care in the world.
You would never guess from this relaxed shot how painfully shy our Sophie really is.
I should have known, though. This is one cool dog. How else could she pull off this winning combination of shades and pearls?
Cool.
Neighborhood watching
A while back, I shared my thoughts about nursing in public here.
This morning, I dragged T out of bed at dawn, changed her diaper and strapped her in her car seat for the mad dash to kindergarten drop-off. By the time we walked back to the car after leaving Beans, she was starving. I needed to run some quick errands before we headed home, and I didn’t want her to 1) be ravenous and uncomfortable or 2) be screamy as checked things off our to-do list, so to tide her over, I decided to nurse her IN THE PRIVACY OF MY OWN CAR.
I understand the necessity of neighborhood watch organizations and all. But as for the man who felt it necessary to walk his dog right up to my window and crane his neck to get a good look at me and whatever “mischief” I might be up to, I’m pretty sure he will think twice about “watching” all the goings-on in cars so up-close-and-personal from now on.
To that man: You annoyed me, but I forgive you. I hope you don’t expect an apology from me, though, because none is forthcoming.
Tags: rant
Fork in the toe-d
I know it’s a bad habit, but for the last … oh, I don’t know. A long time. I’ve found myself eating while standing at the kitchen counter. T is usually either playing on the floor where I can see her or she’s shrieking and growling at me from her high chair, as she’s wont to do when there’s food in her sight and she wants some. If I’m standing, I can grab my plate and follow her as she crawls [to the stairs] or gather whatever it is she needs faster [and stifle the squawking] than if I’m sitting.
Well, as I found myself indulging in said bad habit last night, I dropped my fork, which landed prong down and lodged right in the side of my toe.
I have incredible aim, no? (Not to mention sharp forks.)
I think maybe I better find time to sit at the table and eat my lunch today.
Tags: exploits
Boing
You know how if you compress a spring and then let it go, it has enough momentum to shoot across the room?
Beans is a spring. His day was compressing. HE IS BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS.
I know there is a lot to cram into a day of kindergarten and I get that there’s not enough time to fit everything in. But holy Batman – one short recess in the middle of the day is not nearly enough for a 5-year-old boy. It’s just not.
Other than that, he had a good first day. ; )
Tags: kindergarten
Kindergarten
Well, K-day has finally arrived.
I might have gotten a little teary this morning as I walked away from Beans’ kindergarten class, but he was as happy as a clam. Today’s first-day drop-off was a far cry easier than the first day of preschool when I had to pry a sobbing 3-year-old Beans from my leg and will my own sobbing self to trudge down the hall while I listened to him beg me not to leave him. That, my friends, caused a pain that will linger in my heart forever more.
Today, on the other hand, Beans walked into his new classroom in his new school like he had been there a million and one times before. He stashed his backpack and his lunchbox (which is just like Nate’s!! Yay!!), exchanged a few words with his new teacher and then sat down, ready to get to work.
Tallulah and I miss him desperately (she has just learned to say his name and has been calling for “Buh!” since she woke up from her nap this morning. Poor girl cannot figure out where her favorite boy has gone!). But he has been so excited about his first day for a while now that my heavy heart soars for him. I hope he’s just as excited about school when I pick him up this afternoon (and when we go through the getting-ready-at-the-crack-of-dawn routine tomorrow). I hope he loves school as much as I did when I was his age.
But it's so early ...
Little big man
Stop taking my picture and let me go to school already.
The gang
Wordless Wednesday
End of summer water blast
Communing with the gnomes
For more Wordless Wednesdays, visit Arkie Mama.
De-stress with Dad
Beans and his dad are tight – they talk Mario, superheroes and sports, go to the pool, take walks with our dog, play made-up games, hang out at comic book store, have heart-to-heart chats about who-knows-what, that kind of thing.
Matt is popular with Beans’ set of friends, too. More than once he has run around a baseball field or swam around in a pool with several little guys chasing/tackling him while the rest of the parents stood around and talked, and marveled at the stamina required to carry him through all that roughhousing. (There might have been some Advil involved in getting him through the aftermath, but it sure looked like he was having fun at the time.) This, of course, elevates him even further on the Beans Fun Quotient measure.
I remember vividly the day about two and a half years ago that I was sitting in a Subway restaurant having lunch with Beans and he announced that he wanted to show me what his dad had taught him the night before. He took a bite of his turkey sandwich, chewed for a few seconds and then opened his mouth — aaaaahhhhhh! And then, of course, he laughed. Now that’s male bonding for you.
Beans can’t wait until his dad comes home at the end of the day so he can share this or that tidbit about what he’s done, seen or learned while they were apart, and it does my heart good to see the look in his eyes when he hears the door opening.
Anyway, my point is Beans looks up to his dad, and I’m thrilled that’s the way things are. He’s a great dad, and he’s a good man to look up to.
Now, this study shows there is all the more reason for them to pal around.
Even better.
Tags: Growing up, things they say
Kindergarten
We’ve been busy this week soaking up the last that summer 2010 has to offer – and the last of Beans’ pre-school existence. He starts kindergarten next week, and although I’m doing my best to rah-rah the experience for him, I’m feeling blue about it. It’s the end of an era, you know.
He’ll be fine. He’ll do great. He’ll have a blast, in fact. I think. I hope.
(He will, right? Will I? Survival tips welcome … )
Tags: Growing up, kindergarten
Tanked
A few days ago, I loaded up Beans and Tallulah and headed to the pet store to buy a new snail, sadly to replace Tape, who recently went to that great gastropod home in the sky and left Jack or Wack (I can’t be sure which one’s left, OK?) all alone in a box of murky water.
I also planned to buy some more tropical fish food for Jack/Wack to replace the little bottle our frog-dog Sophie snarfed down not too long ago. (We do feed her. She gets plenty of treats, too. No idea why the fish food was suddenly so appealing but it must have been simply delish, given the obvious effort she made to ingest it.)
My purchases should have totaled in somewhere around $5. My purchases actually totaled closer to $50.
Yeah.
Let’s call it a case of snail guilt.
Tape was a tiny snail, but the only snails available in the store were at least six times his/her size. I made the mistake of asking the guy who scooped our Blue Mystery Snail of choice out of a tank and plunked him into a plastic bag if the tiny tank we have would be OK for a snail of that size and his answer was that snails need tanks with oxygen pumps to survive. Nevermind that Tape had survived just fine for well over a year … my conscious wouldn’t let me take home a new snail and worry that I was depriving him/her of proper breathing material.
Beans and I set out to find a small aquarium with a pump that might be suitable for our new friend. And then we had to choose some new gravel for the floor of his/her new home. And then we needed some nice, new decor – a T-Rex and a tan seashell were Beans’ accessories of choice.
Sooooooo, getting tanked, my friends, is the reason for my overspending.
On the bright side, roaming the pet store and gazing at the fish, hamsters, gerbils, guinea pigs, lizards, birds, cats up for adoption, etc., is just as amusing to Tallulah as going to the zoo might be. And it’s air conditioned.
Jack/Wack was ecstatic about his (I’m guessing here, OK? I have no idea if the frog is male or female …) new digs, and he has been doing water aerobics ever since he moved in. He even seems to appreciate the new light fixture we installed in his new roof.
Tags: Frogs
Wordless Wednesday
Who was that masked man?
For more Wordless Wednesdays, visit Arkie Mama.
Tags: Wordless Wednesday
While juggling freelance writing gigs from her living room floor, Kim Dishongh has ordered her 4-year-old to let go of the cat's tail and told him, no, he may not paint the baby. She has shoved her laptop aside to explain death and define God. Life is a whirlwind. It's hard —and it's fun.
