Sophie’s dad didn’t really know what Sophie is… he said ‘she’s a rescue dog, and she’s some kind of terrier mix, I’m sure, but I don’t know what kind.’ I was pretty sure she looked like a Glen of Imaal terrier, but I wasn’t confident enough to bring it up with him. But I get back here and look it up, and sure enough, she’s pretty much the spit and image of a Glen of Imaal. Cute little thing, huh? And even aside from that she’s a very distinctive dog, because she’s probably one of the three happiest pups I have ever met.
Did I say happy? She’s ecstatic. She’s delighted. She has not only crossed the line into manic, she actually races up and down along the line, barking wildly, delighted that the line exists and just happens to be here and about the idea of line-ness in general.
Stuck another three pictures of Sophie below the break.
When I was introduced to her, she immediately ran over and looked up at me.
If that expression doesn't melt your heart, then allow me to suggest a competent cardiologist for you.
When I leaned down to pet her, she did this:
This is what happens when you pet Nori. She lies down on the ground and squirms around, frantically licking your hand and wiggling and just SO DELIGHTED at the attention that she instantly achieves an emotional state generally not found in humans without access to controlled substances.
When I was done petting her, she lay down in front of me and panted:
She has very soft fur, not the wiry kind that some breeds of terrier have.
But she kept a close (adoring) eye on me, just in case I was going to pet her again.
I bet she's exhausting to live with. And I bet her family can't imagine living without her.
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