(Sweet) Sophie and (Terrible) Tony - Miniature Schnauzers
by Susan Burnett
(Sweet) Sophie and (Terrible) Tony - sweethearts for over 12 years
Sophie and I had a routine we went through every morning. When Sophie was ready to get up, she would slowly creep up to me in bed. She'd stare at me a minute or two, trying to wake me with her Schnauzer Power. If that failed, she would climb over me (I sleep on my side) and lean against my chest. I'd turn onto my back and she'd roll over with me, flopping onto her back on my stomach, legs in the air. I'd rub her belly a while, then roll her off me. Then she'd lay on her side and let me know it was time to rub her ears. When we first started this routine, she would rub furiously at the base of her ear with her paw to let me know she wanted it rubbed. As time passed, I became better trained; her signal changed from furious rubbing to two or three swipes at her ear and, finally, she would just give her paw the vaguest flick in the direction of her ear. After that, it was time to get out of bed. I'd try to pick her up but she would push her feet against my leg so I couldn't pull her toward me. The more I tried to pick her up, the harder she pushed. When I'd finally pry her feet off my leg, she'd suddenly flip in place (like a rotisserie chicken) onto her back for another belly rub. Then, when I tried to pick her up again, she would transform into the Amazing Collapsible Schnauzer, going completely limp so as to make it difficult for me to pick her up. In the end, somehow, I'd manage to get her up and out of bed; that's what I'm going to miss most about my sweet Sophie - our little morning routine.