THE UNITED STATES MAIL AND SOPHIE MATILDA

We love our mailman and so does Sophie Matilda.

Now, English bulldogs are not the smartest dogs in the world.
But they know things and they know what they like.

We like our mailman because he does a great job.
He does not make mistakes.
He brings oversize mail up to our door.
He is pleasant.
He is reliable.

And he is nice to Sophie Matilda.

She has learned to love him.
She even loves his mail truck.

A typical Sophie Matilda walk lasts about twenty minutes, round trip.

We start off powerfully with Sophie trotting along like any normal dog.

Near the end of the outward journey, she starts to slow down, panting a lot, regardless of the temperature.

On the return walk, she often stops dead still, gazing into the distance as though contemplating heaven knows what.

Unless the mail truck appears on the scene.

If the US Mail appears between Sophie and The Study, there are no stops, no gazings.

It is a steady trot, regardless of pantings and gaspings.

English bulldogs pant and gasp a lot.

Anyway, the mail truck overrides the need to rest.

The reason is that our mail man has won Sophie’s heart. And for Sophie, the mail truck can mean only one thing: inside is a very nice man who hands out very large dog bones.

When the mail is on our street, nothing short of fainting would keep the little creature from the object of her affection: a kind man in a uniform who dispenses those lovely treats.

Dear Wife was doing spring cleanup in the flower bed around our mail box the other day.

Sophie was watching her from inside the house, through the storm door.
She was really watching.
I had not yet put her cable around the crab apple tree which allows her in the front yard.

The mail man noticed her as he handed Dear Wife the mail, saying, in so many words, “I see we are being watched."

Dear Wife carried the mail in, with two large dog bones on the top of the pile, to the delight of one little dog.

Sophie’s affections were not disappointed.