We are bad dads.
We almost missed Sophie’s 2nd birthday!
We haven’t had her for two years (that’s in October), but the shelter says she and her brothers and sisters were born on June 15th. …and we almost missed it – because I thought yesterday was the 16th. Even though I had been talking it up for the last month.
She’s a long little girl – and she does like to stretch out quite a bit. The things that make her comfortable would make a contortionist wince just at the idea of doing what she does. For some reason she really likes her head to hang down when she sleeps – over an ottoman, off a table, off the bed. We don’t get it at all.
Don’t let this docile behaviour fool you. She may as well be a 5 month old kitten. She is still a bullet that races from end to end of the house, trying to make corners she can barely navigate (and sometimes doesn’t), even with all back claws out. Or bounds down the steps – two, three or four at a time. Her goal: to get there before you do, even if she has no idea where you are going. She’ll win. She always does.
Sophie is a gifted kibble hockey player too. One piece from her bowl, to her mouth, to the floor and she dribbles that thing all over the kitchen for days on end. Pele was never this adept.
Tovah tolerates her pretty well, though I won’t say she’s happy happy. The bites on Tovah’s butt….then her tail…..then her ear, all her bold attempts at becoming alpha cat, when just the speed and agility of Soph annoy the fuck out of Tovah.
Denton is Sophie’s favourite – and I’m ok with that. I mean, sure, I was all like, ‘why doesn’t she like me like that?’ and yeah, I’d like her to curl up on my chest now and again, but it’s always nice to look over and see the two of them together. There is some special bond there and we don’t understand the ‘why’ of it. It just is.
Song by: Squeeze