Sophie, our Jack-a-bee (Not sure this would quality at the Westminster Kennel Club, but I am told this is a name for a dog mixed with eagle and Jack Russell), loves to shop for her own food at a local pet market. She knows it by name and when I tell her we are going there, she barks excitedly and runs around in circles. And when we get to the parking lot she is ready to jump out of the car and go shopping. And shop she does, walking the aisles, sniffing foods until she finds one she likes. I find it curious that her sniffing ability kicks in, she goes to the aisles where there is dog food.
I am told beagles are used to sniff out bombs. Luckily, I haven’t had to use this ability, but I have paid attention to her uncanny ability to find her own food. A trip to the pet store for her is like a trip to the beach for me. It is the highlight of her week.
Sophie was rescued by a vet who saved her from “being put down” (what a terrible way to describe killing any living creature). She told me Sophie didn’t deserve to die and that her weight problem could be solved with medication. It was.
I admit being more a dog than cat person. Cats could care less what I like anyway. Dogs demand my attention. It is as they say in Washington, D.C.: “If you want a friend, get a dog.” Well, I have one and to tell the truth I prefer her companionship more than most people I know. Like Walt Whitman I “could turn and live with the animals” (well, lions, tigers and snakes excepted).
I named her Sophie, short for Sophia, the Greek word for wisdom. And she has taught me friendship is a gift and the sheer joy of living a light through the darkness.