Once, Sonya got loose. She ran off without so much as a glance back, as if it was a jail break, and this was her only chance at freedom. (Well, it probably was...) Thirty minutes later, we found her, hunched, standing on her tippy toes at a house two blocks away. She just stood there, frozen, refusing to move. Finally, with a little bit of cheeze - Sonya eats as if she were food deprived - she was coaxed into the car, slowly, plainfully, on her tippy toes. She had run so fast and so hard that she tore the pads off her feet!
The point of the story is that she loves to run. Or, is it that she runs to get free... Oh, whatever. Running is breaking loose. Running is freedom.
Just look at that grin on her face. It says "Yippee!"
Sonya runs so fast...
She loves to stretch out her legs.
Oh, wait! what's that smell?
"Drasted squirrels have been peeing in my field!"
"What, that kid? I'm not even going to bother. He ain't sharin' his Snickers bar..."
"Wait, there's another smell... hmmm, it smells like food..."
(Have I mentioned that Sonya craves food like one who hasn't eaten in a long time?)
"Yum, that tasted kinda... foody..."
Yippeeeeeee! Ruuuuuuuun!
Stretch those legs!
"Watch me, watch me! I can run faaaaaast!"
"Uh, what's this... MUD?!"
"Ewwww, yuck, mud..."
"I just had a pedicure. Ewww mud!"
"Can we go home now?"
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