I was five or six months pregnant when we had our first Sophie.
She was lying forgotten and forlorn on the sea wall when we came across her while walking the dog. The dog, made a bee-line for her which isn’t unusual as the dog makes a bee-line for anything she finds on the ground as she is a connoisseur of ear plugs, band-aids, cigarette butts and, once, a half rotted songbird carcass.
Once I’d wrestled her from the dog I thought I would take her home and boil her and keep her for the baby. Afterall, Sophie is $22! The Adequate Father, however, wasn’t going to have any of that. I’ll admit his point about giving a baby something that had been in a mouth that contained a half-rotted bird carcass might have convinced me. I’ve since learnt that you aren’t supposed to boil or sterilized Sophie because it screws up the squeaker so The Adequate Father, without even trying, was for the first time in the history of our relationship right at the same time that I was wrong. Usually, on the few occasions where we have a difference of opinion, he is right while I am more right.
Sophie I ended up back in the jaws of the dog. She lasted 15 minutes before succumbing to her injuries which included mauling and major dismemberment. But the damage was done – the dog has figured out that Sophie squeaks. And the dog has a major squeaker fetish.
Sophie II was given to me when I was eight months pregnant by some good friends. She’s recently come out of her box to play. My son isn’t too interested in her yet. He’ll wave her around but she is a bit too big for him to get her into his mouth yet.
But the dog remembers her.
She’s stolen her three times so far. She waits until I am out of the house and then goes into the bucket of baby toys and fishes her out. The first time I found poor Sophie covered in dirt and dog hair, lying wounded on the carpet. Thankfully she was in one piece. I washed her off and *gasp* gave her back to the baby. The second time I heard a squeak from the bedroom. I staged a rescue operation, washed her off again, and *gasp* gave her back to the baby.
The third time, I just caught a flash of something tan and spotted in the dog’s mouth as I walked past the door to our bedroom. I stopped and turned back to take a look, and there was our happy puppy, sitting on our bed looking all innocent, no Sophie in sight because she had hidden her under my pajama pants.
I have no idea how long Sophie was a prisoner this time. I am highly suspicious that the dog, who had been lying on the bed for hours, was actually gumming Sophie carefully, avoiding the squeaker so as not to alert me to her transgression.
I’m not sure what to do now. Help me out?