Taken in: 2013-07-14

It's All About the Journey

Most pleasant greetings and good graces and to all you wonderful people!

My name is Miss Sophie, I'm a calm and gentle Black Labrador mix -- now, I say 'Black Lab', because that's my main designation. But let me qualify that by letting you know that both of my sides are actually very dark chocolate in color and the fur above my head from one ear to the other is also a thick band of dark chocolate. It's really a unique set of coloring, and the special shading blends really well with the rest of my shiny, dark fur. When you see me at night or on an otherwise darkened room you'll probably say that my color seems to be just like any other typical Black Lab. But during the daytime, especially if the angle of the sunlight hits it just right, you'll be amazed at how my fur looks almost like a glowing, dark burgundy in color! It's a really neat effect and looks very nice on me.

I am three years old and weigh 93 pounds. I've been an indoor dog the entire time I've been staying here at my foster parent's house, and I've been very good at it - not a single accident ever! I also respect people's property and don't touch anything in there other than my personal things which are my toys and my bowl of food and water. I enjoy meeting new people and other doggies and am the adventurous and curious type. I'm a medium-type of dog, as far as activity level is concerned.

I am people-oriented and strongly prefer always having them close by. So if they stand up and started walking towards a different room in the house, chances are I'll be seen following close by. But make no mistake though, I'm not needy by any stretch of the imagination. If you don't interact with me at all, I won't be making any sort of fuss just to gain some attention; I'm perfectly happy just settling down next to you while you're busy with whatever it is you're working on, and eventually I'll either just fall asleep or get bored and start playing with my toys.

Of course, my personal preference would be if you have some free time to engage and chat with me about your day, how things are going, or just about life in general. Heck, if you prefer to go even deeper and start discussing the merits of Hegel's ontological implication as it pertains to self-determination, or Shrodinger's critique of the Copenhagen interpretation of the quantum mechanics as illustrated by his cat, then that's perfectly fine with me as well. I'll humor you.

I have simple pleasures in life and so just hearing your voice makes me happy and content (as you'll see by my softly wagging tail and bemused smile).

Here are a few more details about me that you might also like to know about.

A. BACKGROUND

Before I ended up with SCLRR, I was living exclusively outdoors. My foster dad was told that the actual land itself where I used to live was quite large. The owners built a pen for me at the very edge of that property, as far away from the house as possible, and that's where I spent all my days and nights. My foster dad thinks that was how I became overweight because he suspects that I was probably free-fed, and that was combined with no meaningful sort of activity whatsoever on my part for the past couple of years. Although I may not have previously had an active lifestyle (or any sort of activity for that matter) I myself am not lazy at all. Once I started staying with my foster dad, I always look forward to our daily walks and I have a lot of fun playing games with him.

In any case, the living situation at my former home was not the most ideal setup for me. The official reason I was given up was due to fear of loud noises. Apparently during the entire month of July there were daily instances of multiple fireworks being shot all day, every day in the area where I used to live (not just during 4th of July itself, but for the entire month) and this then caused me to end up breaking out of my pen numerous times out of sheer fright, and injuring different parts of my body in the process. My previous owners eventually decided that enough was enough and that it would be best if I just lived somewhere else...and that's how I ended up here at my foster home.

B. BACKYARD

I really don't spend a lot of time at the backyard here in my foster home; I only go there to do my business and then head on directly back indoors so I can keep the humans company. On rare occasions, I may take one of my toys outside and play with them there for a few minutes, especially if the weather's quite nice. But unless you're actually out there as well playing with me, then more often than not I'll be found lounging indoors.

I'm not a destructive dog by any means; I don't dig holes anywhere in the yard, don't rip out any of the plants planted here, and in my spare time I don't go sitting around in a dark corner of the room with a slide rule, calculator, and a T-square trying to figure out the best way to wreck his fence in order to escape. Of course, you may want to recall the report filed during my hand-over that I have been known to escape from my pen at my previous owner's home numerous times and take that into consideration. It is worth noting though that each time I escaped, I was always found sitting quietly in the front porch of my owner's home, and so one can argue I wasn't so much as trying to 'escape' from my pen but was just probably more of an attempt on my part to be closer to humans.

C. MEDICAL + GROOMING

I'm already spayed, and my foster dad took me to the vet so all my shots are current. You'll receive all the necessary paperwork once you adopt me so you'll know what I received and when. In addition to that, I was also sent to the groomers for a special treat! This was because when I first arrived, I was heavily infested with ticks. My entire body was covered with them, all the way to the inside of my ears! And so I was very itchy and just altogether miserable in general because of it.

And that was how it was when I first arrived at my foster home. Physically I was okay, but appearance-wise, there was certainly a lot of room for improvement: aside from the heavy tick infestation, my fur was all matted, long, tangled and very dusty and dirty; I had bald spots in numerous places, not to mention multiple scrapes and bruises where I had injured myself; one of my nails was split in two and bleeding continuously, and two others were simply worn down to the nub. I also have a tooth missing but it's one of the little ones, so you probably won't even notice it unless you actively make an effort to open my mouth and look for where the gap is. Most (if not all) of these injuries, one would assume, could have been directly caused by my numerous attempts at trying to escape my pen.

I am happy to report though that I have turned the corner and most of these are but faded memories lost amidst the dreams of the hazy yesteryears. The bald spots? They've since been mostly completely covered up by my newly-grown fur. See?

There used to be a bald spot right at the top of my ears when I first arrived here, but now it's practically gone. Same with all the rest of the other bald spots at other parts of my body. The split nail is finally starting to heal (it used to bleed a lot every day, but no more).

And finally, there's the infestation. My foster dad took me in for a spa day one afternoon, and it was awesome! I met several other doggies there that were also getting their hair done and so we spent the entire time trading gossips while the groomers were busy giving me the royal treatment. There were lots of people there too, both employees and customers, and so the place was practically a zoo - filled with talking people, and yapping dogs, and shears, and cash registers, and tooth brushes, and nail clippers, and any other imaginable sound you can imagine. Through it all, I was very calm and happy as a clam, wagging my tail slowly and smiling the entire time, just serenely taking in the commotion amidst all these busy people and harried customers and impatient doggies. My foster dad was so proud, I was such a model client at the groomers!

With regard to the tick issue, the groomers were nice enough to bring in a vet who patiently went through every inch of me just diligently removing every single one of the nasty critters. Ugh! I gave her major props for unlimited patience and persistence. She was at it for hours and hours on end, just systematically plucking away at every single parasite that can be found. Eventually, she was done! And I couldn't be happier. I haven't felt that great in a while, no more itchiness and I smelled nice, too. My foster dad took before-and-after pictures to commemorate the occasion and so I'd like to take this opportunity to share those with you. Here they are (te-he!):

So finally no more ticks, and no more bald spots (I still do have some scarring that you can feel underneath the fur on certain parts of my body when you pet me) and am as pretty as I can be, so now I'm finally available for adoption and ready for all the hugs and kisses you can give me.

D. OUTDOOR WALKS

Looking for a low-stress, no-hassle partner to accompany you on your daily walks around the neighborhood? I'm all that, and more! I don't pull, and my normal gait is a slow walk. I'm never in a hurry to get to wherever we're going because I take my time savoring the sights and enjoying the environment. So if you're more into running, or jogging, or cruising along in your bicycle with a dog in tow, or trying to set a new personal best on how fast you can get to a certain destination, or if you're always in a hurry and impatient to get on with things and hate moving on a slow pace, then I'm probably not the right dog for you. I'm much more of a 'stop and smell the roses' kind of stroller, and I consider the actual journey itself just as important (if not more so) than the final destination.

When we first leave the front door, I may start to slowly trot - that's the sign that I'm super-excited, and then after a few seconds I will settle down and revert to my normal walking pace which is a leisurely stroll. Now, don't misunderstand, I DO know how to run. It's just that I prefer not to when we go out for walks, because I was told that it's not polite to drag your human face-down on the sidewalk while you go zig-zagging around garbage cans at full bore, and so I'm being considerate and try not to do that when we're out and about.

People who adopt sometimes wonder how their new dog will react to other canines, especially ones that are behind a gate and barking at all passersby like crazy while you and your doggie are out for a walk, minding your own business. Well, in my case, I tend to ignore them. Isn't that great? No worries on your part with having to pull me back and needing to play tug-of-war with the leash just to try to keep me moving along? If I do show any sort of reaction, it's to give them a brief glance, with a little bit of a giggle as I do a dainty trot past them. It's as if I'm saying 'Haha, you're just jealous because you never get to go out while I get to pass by your place twice a day! Pvvfffft!!!' ← That last one was a wet raspberry, by the way. Here, let me give you a visual representation of what I was trying to convey:

Of course, I don't physically do that to them whenever I pass by; that's just what it seems like I'm trying to say whenever I playfully pass by them as they're barking at me from behind their gate, or fence, or whatnot. On rare occasions, there will be a particular doggie that's just being extremely loud and obnoxious, and so during those times I will indeed stop and bark back at them. It's my way of telling them to settle down because they're being quite annoying. I don't do it for long though and will keep moving soon enough, sometimes with some additional prompting from my foster dad.

When it comes to doggies that I meet on the street, I like them all! I'm the friendly type and will wag my tail at all of them. Even the little ones are okay in my book. An unknown canine is a simply friend that I just haven't had a chance to meet yet, is how I look at it. Of course, some of them are indeed hostile and are barking their head off at me, just like those nutty ones from behind the neighbors' gates. In those cases, I mostly just stop wagging my tail, stare at them and then move on, but sometimes I'll also get mad and bark back if they are particularly wild and unruly.

What about cats? My foster dad doesn't have any feline pets at home, so he doesn't really know how I'll react to them in an enclosed area. But as far as out on the street is concerned, I seem to be okay with them. There are lots of kitties in the neighborhood where I'm currently in, and quite a few of them like to hang out in their own front yards, just silently staring at us with sullen and dispassionate eyes while we walk by. Most of the time I will stop and stare back at them, which is when they'll start being more wary and alert, wondering if I'll decide to start chasing them all of a sudden. But so far, I have not shown any interest in doing that at all. I just look at them with curiosity before moving on.

And so at this point I really haven't shown any sort of tendency to chase an animal that I've come across (i.e., no prey reflex = no pulling on the leash) ... with the single exception of skunks! There are skunks here in this neighborhood and boy do I hate them. That's one of the times when you'll have to restrain me is when I come across skunks, because they are evil! As far as I'm concerned, they are (to paraphrase Shakespeare) 'a plague on all our houses'.

When it comes to people, now that's a completely different story. First of all, I adore kids, and always enjoy it when they come up to greet me because the ones I've met have been very nice and polite; they first make sure to approach my foster dad and ask permission from him to see if it's okay for them to pet me. Once he gives his approval, they come up and hug and pet and talk to me. I stand really still with my tail wagging and with a huge grin on my face, soaking up all the attention and adoration from the little ones!

The adults are an odd bunch though, because they all react differently. When my foster dad first started walking me he noticed I have a tendency to stop dead in my tracks the moment I realize there's a grown up walking in the opposite direction towards us. I will then stand perfectly still like a statue and silently track their movement with my eyes and just minimal head movement. If they don't react or completely ignore me or are distracted and don't even notice me at all, then once they're past us, I will start walking again and completely forget about those folks. On the other hand, if they start to engage me in any sort of way (talking to me, bending down to greet me, smiling at me, or even make a simple eye contact), then I will start wagging my tail and smile back at them, expecting that they will pet me.

Now speaking of 'pet', I do have one thing that I consider as a pet peeve of mine. Oh, and by the way, why do they even call these things 'pet peeve' to begin with? That is pet-criminatory to animals like me! From now on, I'm going to start using the term 'human peeve' instead as an act of protest and will encourage all other animals to do the same. Power to the four-legged, furried animals!

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, my human peeve. I have also come across some people that are scared of me. There was this tiny lady that we bumped into at the park one day very early in the morning. It was still a little bit dark at the time and she may not have even noticed me until the last second because of it. And so when she finally did see me, we were practically in front of each other, with me doing my usual thing of standing very still, mouth closed and just quietly staring at her. Well, when she finally did see me she got startled and scared both at the same time. She jumped a little, slowly backed away, and then tried to circle around past us, giving me and my foster dad an extra wide berth in the process.

Well, how do you like that? I mean talk about 'smelling fear', I didn't as much as smell fear as a saw it peeled away with fright, flew straight at me and smacking me full on the face and up past both my floppy ears. I was so insulted! What does she have to be scared of ? Me? Cute little ol' me??? I mean look at this photo. Is that a picture of a dog that can seriously frighten anyone?

And so I did what any self-respecting doggie would do whose pride was hurt: I gave her a long, low growl and then proceeded to give out big-voiced woof-woofs. I was annoyed, so I was telling her to stop being such a scared-y cat because it's just me. It was strange though, because instead of calming down, she freaked out even more and started to run away! My foster dad scolded me because of that, he said that is not how a young lady should act. I did the same thing again one more time with this other lady on a different day and he also scolded me again for it. I haven't done it since, but my foster dad isn't sure if it's because I have now learned my lesson, or if it's just that I haven't come across anyone else that I think is scared of me.

One of the quirks you'll notice while we're out walking is that I tend to want to go up every single driveway that we pass. This puzzles my foster dad to no end, wondering why I would want to do this. He's been trying to get me to stop being so interested in them and we're making some progress. But if you still happen to notice a bit of this tendency to some extent when we start going out on our walks, then at least you're aware that I've always been like that from the very beginning. I'm an obedient dog though, and my foster dad almost never has to pull me. One thing you may want to be aware of is I tend to have a bit of a few seconds' delay before following your instructions, and so don't feel as if I'm ignoring you when you say something for the first time and I don't immediately react. For example, if you say, 'Sophie, don't go up the driveway, that's not yours. Let's keep going.' I may loiter around the foot of the driveway for a few more seconds, sniffing around, seemingly oblivious to what you just said. But my foster dad has since learned that before he even has a chance to repeat what he said, I will have already gone ahead and start doing what he asked.

If you really don't want me heading somewhere (or approaching something/someone), a couple of slight tugs along with the verbal instruction is usually good enough. And although I am an obedient dog and will follow what you say, please remember that I'm currently not yet as fit as the other doggies and so my frequent pauses and slow pace serves a dual purpose: not only does it satisfy my curiosity, since I enjoy exploring and discovering new things, but it also gives me an opportunity to pace myself and catch my breath, especially on one of our longer walks. And so even though I will follow your instructions for us to keep moving, hopefully you won't be doing this a lot mainly for the sake of expediency as my preferred pace really helps me a lot in keeping me from overexerting myself.

E. COMMANDS

I obviously know 'sit', as you can see. I also somewhat get the idea when you say 'stay'; I tend to follow close by whenever the humans enter or exit a door, but when one of them says 'stay', I will stay back and not follow them through the doorway. That's pretty much it for me as far as the formal ones go. But if you'd like to teach me more, I'll certainly do my best as I love learning new tricks and am always eager to please.

F. MEAL TIME

When I first met my foster dad, he pulled me aside and told me that he thinks it would be good for me if I lose at least 10 pounds, if not more. And so he put me on a simple diet of dry kibbles, with just the proper amount that he feels I should be getting (he thinks I've been eating very rich food all these years, and in over-abundant quantities, at that). Well, that first night had not been easy for me. I polished off my dinner lickety-split, then came up to him to ask for more, but he refused. I cried so hard! My foster dad was miserable and his heart was breaking at the sight of me being so sad, but he still didn't give me anything else and so I spent the rest of the night moping and depressed because I still wanted to eat some more.

But that's ancient history! Now, I eagerly chow down my food (same amount as that first night) and then run off to play after a quick drink to polish off my meal. In fact, sometimes I don't even finish everything that's in my bowl, because I'm too distracted with wanting to play. But please don't take away my leftovers, if there are any. I always come back to eat them later on once I'm done playing.

For variety, every once in a while my foster dad will introduce 'fruit days' to my meal to mix it up. One day it might be 'Banana Day' in which case there'll be thin slices of banana mixed in with my kibbles. Yummy! Other days it might be 'Cantaloupe Day' and still other days it might be 'Apple Day' (thin slices, with the core and seeds removed). But he doesn't do those often because he doesn't want me to get used to them and have me start expecting fruit to always be present with my regular meal and so when they do show up on my dish, it becomes more of a treat.

There are also lots of different kinds of citrus fruits growing out in the backyard here, but I never touch any of those that fall to the ground. Those things are sour. Yuck!

Oh, and just to give you an idea of how good of a doggie I am, my stash of kibble is stored in a pail by the kitchen. It's simply covered by a loose lid and so if I want, I can easily push it aside with my snout and start to gorge away until I burst. But I never do that; I don't sneak in and try to eat any additional food just because it's there.

When it comes to people food, it would be prudent to make sure they are well away from reach and not easily accessible. As you can see from the photo below, I am a tall doggie:

My head is easily above the dining table and so I can see everything that's placed there. It's possible that I may have also been fed people food at my previous home because I show a very strong interest in them whenever the humans are gathered round the table and ready to eat. My foster dad has been instructing me not to stick my nose on the table while they're eating because it's considered bad manners, and so far I've been responding (I will come all the way up to the table and stare intently at the people food, at which point my foster dad will say, 'No Sophie, that's not yours'. I will then leave them alone so they can eat in peace). My foster dad wants to eliminate my habit of staring at the people food altogether by the time I get adopted, but that might be a bit too optimistic of a time frame. We shall see.

Of course, the same thing goes for snacks and various other types of edibles placed on counters and shelves. My foster dad has never seen me attempt to try and grab any of them, but it's only prudent to make sure they are well out of my reach. Especially if there's no one else around, the temptation might be too great since I'm so tall it's very easy for me to reach high places if I ever do decide to rear up on my hind legs.

G. PLAY TIME

I don't spend an awful lot of time playing fetch unlike other doggies that can go for hours running around back and forth. This could be partly due to the fact that I haven't had a chance to build up my endurance yet and so I tend to tire easily. Perhaps once I manage to get myself down to an ideal weight I'll be able to get involved with retrieving your tennis ball much more. In any case, I will go ahead and play fetch with you for a few runs or so if you have the time because I do enjoy having these bonding-type of activities.

My personal preference though as far as playtime is concerned definitely involves a squeaky toy. I love them! Some doggies are scared of the noise they make, but not me. I will walk all around the house with the thing in my mouth as I proudly play Shostakovich's Symphony No. 5 in D minor, Op. 47 to the best of my abilities ... well, at least that's what I like to imagine I sound like whenever I play my toy. As far as the humans are concerned, all they hear from me is 'squeak, squeak, squeak,' as I walk in the room and then 'squeak, squeak, squeak,' as I turn around and walk back out again. Hopefully you're not annoyed by squeaky noises as that is my favorite pastime and how I keep myself occupied on slow days. If the thingamajig inside them breaks, they essentially become just simple stuffed toys - why do some of them break rather easily? My foster dad gets mad about it and so do I. I don't manhandle or roughhouse them in any way when I play, I just use them normally and yet some of them break apart rather quickly. Someone really ought to work on improving their quality control procedures and the durability of the materials being used. But I digress. In any case, I will still occasionally play with the (unintentionally converted) stuffed toys, but they're really not as attractive to me as the ones that make noise, so perhaps you may want to have a few extra ones handy in case the one I'm playing with stops working?

H. SLEEPING ARRANGEMENT

When it's finally time to turn in for the night, the humans go upstairs to their bedroom. I wave them goodnight while I stay behind on the ground floor. Even though I'm an expert stair climber (there's a long flight of stairs in one of the parks we go to that I routinely traverse with ease), I prefer to spend the night by myself down below. Since that's already been my routine from the very beginning, my foster dad never tried to change it or encourage me to go upstairs, just in case your home also happens to have a second floor. And if you'd rather not want me to go upstairs in your home once I move in with you, then no further training is necessary. Of course, if the opposite is true, then I'm sure it's going to be very easy for me to go up, as it would probably take just a single word or two of encouragement on your part and it's up the stairs I go to spend the nights with you from then on!

There's also a crate here in the house situated in one corner of the living room, but I've never used it. Even when the humans are away and I'm left just by myself, I always get to roam free inside.

I. BATH TIME

My foster dad suspects that I have not had much experience with baths - and perhaps had never even had one before? - because on one exceptionally warm day, he decided to give me a bath and the moment he started pouring the warm water all over me I looked at him in shock, as if I've never had water poured on me before, and was totally not expecting it. I was very cooperative and patient though, and so I just stood there very still and allowed him to continue with his lathering, and soaping, and rinsing. But he was taking a little bit too long for my taste, and so eventually towards the end I started fidgeting a little bit, but I still let him finish. Once he was all done toweling me off, I ran really fast to the far end of the yard and started rolling around on the grass and dirt.

J. CAR RIDES

My foster dad was told that I did not have much experience riding in vehicles, either. Apparently one of the few times I had ever ridden in one was years and years ago when I was first transported to my previous owner's home the moment they took ownership of me, so it wasn't a surprise I was a bit reluctant the first few times I tried getting on my foster dad's vehicle whenever it's time for us to go on field trips.

Here are the steps that he did back then in order to get me to come on board:
(1) Foster dad opens passenger-side door and gets in the back seat; he then scoots over to the other side of the vehicle to encourage me to follow him inside and sit next to him.
(2) After a while I will eventually do so and sit next to him, at which point he will open the door and exit the vehicle on his side, close that door, and then run to the other side of the vehicle and then close the door on that side, too.
(3) He then runs back to the other side once again, opens the driver's side door, gets in, and then we can finally take off!

It's really funny to watch, but these days I just immediately hop on board the moment he opens the door so we can get to our destination quicker. My foster dad's not sure if I will revert back to hold habits and be hesitant again once I'm in your vehicle (at least for the first few times) and so he thought of sharing his 'musical chairs' technique above as a suggested way to initially get me going.

K. SOCIALIZATION

My current weight and size notwithstanding, I consider myself a lapdog! When you spend some alone time with me, I will give you a hug -- I'm not much of a kisser and so if you don't enjoy doggie slobber in your face, then you're in luck because I pretty much never do that to anyone! Giving hugs is my main thing -- which means I will brush my head and then my shoulders against your chest. If by that time I had developed a special bond with you, then I will do something extra after the hug: I will then turn my back on you ... and then sit on you. And if you don't do anything to resist, then I will then shift sideways and then try to curl up and lay my entire body down onto your lap! Hehe! I told you I consider myself a lapdog! And so fair warning, you may want to try and strategize how you plan to manage my 'cuddle reflex' once I'm yours because we are talking about 93 pounds resting on your lap. My foster dad always plans on trying to discourage me from doing it, but he always ends up cracking up before he can even start to say anything because he thinks it's really cute. If you happen to be sitting in a chair, as opposed to being crouched down on the ground with me, then I may come up and lay my head down on your lap as my way of showing my appreciation with you.

For a canine that used to be exclusively an outdoor dog, I'm very well socialized for living indoors: I never jump on people, even when I'm very excited about something. I don't go around chewing on people's shoes (even though there's quite a few here at home that are strewn about within easy reach), and I don't go about destroying people's property, or even as much as touch or glance at them, as I already mentioned earlier. That being said, I am a Labrador after all. If you've never owned dogs before -- or simply Labradors in particular -- that's okay, we'll have fun learning and growing together as the days, months, and years go by. But we were originally bred as working dogs, and as such, we have lots of energy to spend every single day. Again, as I had also mentioned earlier, my energy level is about medium, and so you wouldn't have to devote lots of strenuous activity for me to burn off my pent-up energy, but I will still need some form of outlet for the amount that I do have, be it exercise via walks, or playtime, or whatnot -- a lot of the cases of Labs reported as 'misbehaving' at home can be traced back to them being bored out of their ever lovin' minds with absolutely nothing to do, so they turn to digging or other sorts of inappropriate stuff. And so if I can get to go out for walks around the neighborhood at least once a day (twice a day would be ideal, but I can go with just one), with plenty of toys and other healthy activities to keep me distracted while you're around, then I should be just fine being alone by myself while you're away at work most of the day. If, on the other hand, your lifestyle and work situation would make you too busy to be spending some daily quality time of at least half an hour a day with me, then perhaps a different breed or simply one with much less energy level would be better suited for your needs. I'll probably be okay if situations are such that you'd end up not taking me out at all for a day or so in case things happen to be really hectic for you at the time, but I won't be happy at all if I'm just cooped around at home (even with backyard access) for weeks at a time.

To give you one concrete example: when I first got here, there were no doggie toys as my foster dad had not gotten around to getting any yet. And so for the first day or so, when everyone was gone, there was nothing for me to do. As I mentioned earlier, I'm the inquisitive type, and since I'm very good at opening things with doors in them I started investigating various cabinets and drawers around the house as I try to discover what's inside. And so fair warning, you may want to have some toys ready for me to play with. Well, either that, or you may want to child-proof your home unless you want me snooping around underneath the kitchen sink and various other cabinets and receptacles trying to see what sorts of things you're got hidden in there.

I'm normally quiet and even if you're around I can manage by myself quite well, and won't bother you at all if you have other things to do. The one exception is if I stub my paw; now, this will probably never happen again because my split nail has since pretty much healed, but if nothing else I suppose the following event is something worth sharing: my foster dad was busy fiddling with something upstairs one morning while I was downstairs playing with my toys as usual when all of a sudden I let out a super-loud, blood-curdling scream! My foster dad was so scared, he ran scrambling all the way downstairs, fearing the worst. But when he got downstairs, I was just there quietly sitting down staring at him, seemingly none the worse for wear. But then he did notice that there was a pool of blood on the floor, and so he surmised that I may have stubbed my paw again while playing and the split nail got hit at just the wrong spot so that it opened up once more, causing quite a bit of intense pain along with the subsequent bleeding. So I got up to give him room to clean up the mess and walked away (and eventually started playing again) while he was there scrubbing away, half-worried that CSI-SCLRR investigators led by David Caruso with his trademark sunglasses will be banging on the front door demanding to be let in so they can collect evidence and determine if there was any foul play involved!

Other than that bit of melodramatic excitement, I really don't make a lot of noise. I don't needlessly bark or make any sort of fuss about things I can hear happening outside the house. That said, you may want to pay particular attention when I do come up and try to tell you things. One time, I approached one of the humans here and tried to tell them something, but not being fluent in dog-ese (American dialect, West Coast variety), they had no idea what I meant. Eventually someone figured out that the back door was closed (it's normally open all the time) and once they got it opened, I go rushing out, straight as an arrow to the far end of the yard to do my business. Same thing goes when we're out walking; I'm normally too busy trying to explore and observe my surroundings when we're out walking and will almost never do any sort of interaction with you. But on those rare occasions when I quietly do try to make eye contact, especially on one of our longer walks, I may be trying to ask you if it's okay for us to lay on the grass for at least a few minutes so I can rest a bit. So little hints like those can go a long way since I'm the quiet type and don't vocalize a lot.

Now as far as OTHER THINGS making loud noises that might potentially be scary to me, my foster dad is a bit puzzled because during my entire time here, he hasn't come across any sort of loud noises that seem to even bother me at all. Even fireworks, which were supposedly the main reason I got scared and started my latest round of breakouts from my previous pen, don't seem to be an issue for me here in my foster home. There were three separate incidences of fireworks being ignited sometime in mid-July in the vicinity of where my foster dad and I were walking one night, and none of them even caused me to break my stride or make me turn my head or get my ear flaps to twitch, much less flinch or be worried about them at all. And even at my foster home, when there was a pot that got accidentally dropped directly behind me while I was relaxing on the kitchen floor, that didn't even get me to turn around to see what the commotion was. And finally, one time there was a weed whacker that was used here in the backyard, making an awful loud racket. Having never seen one before, of course I was initially concerned ('What sorcery is this?' I said to myself), but after about 15 seconds or so, I actually walked right up to it because I was curious to see how it works. I even barked at it one time once they shut it off because I wanted it to keep going! And so based on my personal experience with loud noises here, my foster dad really has no idea why it was reported that I'm scared of loud noises. But out of an overabundance of caution, I suppose you may still want to keep in mind that I might be fearful of noises, especially if you happen to take me out camping, or to any other foreign places with potential for strange noises.

L. TRANSITION TIME

And finally, everything that I mentioned above are based on my being already somewhat settled down and comfortable with my surroundings. During the first few days after I move in with you I may be a little worried about why I'm all of a sudden in a different home and being taken care of by a completely new group of people, and so I'd certainly appreciate it if you be patient with me as I try my best to adapt to your particular routine and unique set of household rules. I know during my transition period over here at my foster home, I used to cry a bit every so often because I missed my old home, but then I eventually got over it and have since moved on to enjoying life in my new environment. And so now as I'm in the process of getting myself prepared for the next chapter in my life, I look forward to finally getting a chance to meet my real family - and in return, I offer you my loyalty and undying devotion as we look forward to enjoying years and years of fun and adventure together.

Hope to meet you soon,

- Miss Sophie