Sophie Sophie Bo Bophie

We have a cat named Sophie and although I'd sometimes like to forget (and really did once) Dan is careful to always remind me that "you cried for that cat!"

And I did, indeed, cry for her. When we lived in our basement apartment, the size of a postage stamp, as newlyweds, Dan took a job working from 1pm to 10pm, everyday. I was still in school and had class in the morning, so it pretty much made for certain that we didn't see each other much. It was not too fun of a time for me. Or for him either.

I got a wild idea that if I got a cat, it could keep me company, and be bright spot during a gray time.

I did my research and found that a local veterinarian's office had some kittens ready for adoption. I went to the office, petted them all, and picked Sophie.

Logic may have told a regular person to check with the landlord before researching, but that's not what it told me. So I asked our kind landlady if I could please, please, please get a kitten.

She said no.

Now what was I going to do? I had my heart set on Sophie. Days passing increased the likelihood of her being adopted by someone else.

I did what any over emotional animal lover would do.

I went back. I asked again. And I cried.

It worked. We got Sophie. And in many ways she was a bright spot for me. She became the focus of our attention. She remained a prominent fixture in our little life.


From the first night she came home with us, she climbed on top of me as I lay in the bed. She started to knead on me with her razor sharp claws and actually suck on the collar of my shirt. I guess she really thought I was her momma. But that seriously hurt. We finally managed to get her to agree that she could suck and knead on my shirt all she wanted, just not while I was wearing it. And it only took one slimy knead-and-suck session, for me to decide that blue T-shirt would not be worth sharing.

From then on, Sophie could be found at any point in the day but especially at night, snuggled on our bed, doing her thing with that shirt.

Then Ava came and life turned upside down for our cat. The first time we brought Ava home from the hospital,we set her down in her car seat in the middle of the living room. We were anxious to see how Sophie would receive her. Sophie walked slowly to her, sniffed her a moment, and then hissed. And that moment Sophie went from beloved, doted on pet, to second fiddle.

And she has never recovered. She hates the kids. She is mostly nocturnal. She hides or sleeps under our bed all day. We get little enjoyment from her. Dan cleans the litterbox and loathes it. And does it say anything that her blue T-shirt has long been lost?

Dan does not enjoy animals. Ever since I became pregnant with Ava and the litterbox became an off limits chore for me, Dan dutifully does the job. And it's usually around this time that I hear the reminder, "You cried for this cat!"

But while Dan doesn't like Sophie much these days, he argues that a cat is 100 times better than a dog because
a) they don't poop in our yard
b) we can leave them with a big bowl of food and water and leave them for days
c) that's about it

So, Dan's plan is that we will always have a cat. Then when our kids beg for a pet he can tell them, "we already have a cat", because to him that is the easiest alternative.



So, that is why I hear the phrase, "When Sophie dies..." all the time.

Ava is an animal lover, not unlike her mother, and has been promised by Dan that when Sophie dies she can get a kitten. She has no comprehension that that is probably 10 years away. But to her Sophie is "mean" and Ava dreams of a kitten that will love to be held and sleep on her bed.

So lately she has been so excited by the idea of this new kitten (who also, by the way, will be named Seraphina) that I hear things like,

"I can't wait til Sophie dies and I can get a new kitty!"



"When Sophie dies, can I really get a nice cat?!"



"When Sophie dies, I'm getting a new kitten!"

Poor Sophie.


Not long ago, Ava asked me, "Mom, when is Sophie gonna die?"

And I realized then that Ava is more a mixture of Dan and I than I had previously thought, a little bit animal lover and a little bit not.