Dumbest dog EVER.

A few weeks ago I posted about the new addition to my family: Sophie, the five month old Springer Spaniel. I may have mentioned about how intellectually-challenged she seemed to be, from getting lost in moderately sized cardboard boxes to licking the TV to try and figure out if it was food.

You guys - this dog. I'm not even kidding. I thought perhaps her startling idiocy was due to some kind of settling in period. Everyone acts a bit weird when they go to a new house. I overcompensate too when hurled into an unfamiliar place; toss my hair, laugh like royalty, tell too many off-colour jokes, drink too much wine and fall into plant pots. So I was willing to accept that she was just finding her feet.

Turns out that, no, actually. She's just brain-dead. When Jester (my Lab) looks at me, I can see that she's working things out, or that she's feeling especially loving at that moment. When Sophie looks at me, all I can see is: "????" It's a very happy "?????!!!!!" but it's indicative of the fact that there's nothing knocking around inside her skull at all. I wonder if it has something to do with her pedigree. That many years of inbreeding really has to leave a mark somewhere down the line.

I tried one of those doggy IQ tests with her and Jess. You know the ones, you put a bit of food under a can and time how long it takes the dog to find it; you put a blanket over their head and time how long it takes them to free themselves, that kind of thing.

One of the tests has you call your dog 'Refrigerator' and then 'Movies' - the idea being you're calling them by a different word than their name, but using the tone of voice you generally use to call her by.

In my house, Jester went first. Sophie was put in another room. This test went like this:

Me: Refrigerator!
Jester: [Puzzled stare. Didn't move.]
Me: Movies!
Jester: [Gave me an odd look. Lay down.]
Me: Jester!
Jester: Christ, finally, I thought she was having a stroke. [Trots over to accept some lovin'.]

Then I took Jester out of the room and brought Sophie in.

Me: Refrigerator!
Sophie: OH, ME, ME ME ME! THAT'S ME!
Me: No, you beautiful idiot. Go back and sit down. Right - Movies!
Sophie: THAT ONE IS ME, THAT ONE IS DEFINITELY ME, ME ME! CAN I LICK INSIDE YOUR MOUTH WHILE YOU TALK TO ME TOO LATE ALREADY DONE IT.

She also failed the blanket test. You're supposed to drop a blanket over the dog and see how long it takes them to get out of it. It took Jes about a second. When I dropped the blankey on Sophie she immediately lay down and started to eat it. A minute later, still no sign of freedom, I took it off her myself. She's special.

I'm obsessed with this iPhone game at the moment, which is MAD because I am terrible with mobile phones. Since they tend to break, combust, explode or ignite in my presence, I deemed it a duty to society to just not have one. Computers are great, I love them, I can fix them, use them, I need them. Mobile phones? IDK, it's like they're from a different plant. They probably are.

Anyway, the Spy made me have this iPhone after a disastrous night wherein I got lost coming out of a club and had to walk through Birmingham on my own dressed like Sookie Stackhouse. It was a Halloween thing, I'm not crazy. I have to say this phone is pretty awesome. I've had it for like two years now and it still lives. IT LIIIIVES!

I recently discovered the joy of apps, after thinking they were  for idiots who didn't have any proper computers. (Sorry! I'm educated now.) I did the Temple Run thing until it made me scream bloody murder in frustration. I did the Draw Something thing where everything I drew had some kind of sexual innuendo embedded, because I am secretly sixteen. Now I'm on to the WORD games. I'm not ready to play other people yet (I have to practice in secret until I become some kind of Arch-Pirate Knight-Captain Grand Champion, then I oh-so casually say "Oh, what's that game you're playing? Looks interesting.."

I'm playing Whirly Word.

It's addictive. I feel a little discriminated against though, because twice today I have seen words that are in my personal dictionary, but clearly don't exist in theirs. Arl, for example. (ARL HOWE, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU, YOU SONNABITCH!) Ogg. Ogg should be a word recognised in ALL dictionaries.

Time to take the dogs for a walk. I mention it only because it's raining, and I realised today that when I put my hood up or down I don't do it like normal people. I do it in that fantasy movie way, you know what I mean? As if I'm revealing my identity, or hiding it. You know? I like adding a little bit of mystery to walking dogs in miserably cold rain.

PEACE.