Gus is the owner of the popular baby toy, Sophie the French Giraffe. Oui oui. He isn’t that loyal to her these days, but she continually makes her appearances.
Judging from a few recent pictures, I think she hates us.
Presumable recent diary entries of Sophie:
December 15, 2013: Introduced to my bebe. His grip is getting tighter. I find my head in his mouth often. No teeth yet, but occasional carpet lint.
January 22, 2014: Grip is getting suffocating.
February 12, 2014: Today, I flung myself from the stroller on grounds of running away. Suicidal thoughts? Debatable. My disappearance would have gone unnoticed if I hadn’t squeaked as I was being run over twice, by both front and back stroller wheels. I lost a piece of my ear in the traction.
March 2, 2014: I was a bath time participant against my will. My squeaker is damaged. Now I can only qualify as a “C” grade item on eBay, so shipping myself off has been crossed off my escape options.
March 30, 2014: Second attempt at a stroller jump. The neighbor’s dachshund ate my head.
April 28, 2014: My captor towed me to a doctor’s appointment. I saw another Sophie. She signaled distress with Dum Dum flares. Glad to know I’m not alone.
May 8, 2014: Riding to the grocery store, I witnessed a wide-eyed, In n Out stickered Barbie spiked down from a Denali window at a four way stop. I am feeling blessed today.
June 27, 2014: My face was an unfortunate substitute for a hammer when a need to clobber the street arose. Now I have a mustache, yet I am a woman. I have been mistaken twice for the Burger King cashier.
Sophie had been missing since around July, and I just found her. I think I understand why. She has sympathetically been placed at the bottom of Gus’s toy bin, but he has happily retrieved her…and possibly just in time for teething. I hope she doesn’t turn into Chuckie.