A natural history of Sophie

The acorn barnacle feeds by opening its shell and extending a feathery leg into the water.  With this appendage, it grabs passing plankton and such, which it then kicks it into its mouth.

Sophie behaves in a remarkably similar manner.

When her mother and I are carrying her around a store (usually a book store) she is alerted to the presence of her prey by their colorful markings.  She will then extend an appendage and begin flapping it urgently in their direction.  When her host (that's me) moves her closer in response to her plaintive grunts, she will begin the process of attempting to grab and then devour--say--a DVD copy of the Mamma Mia soundtrack.

So far she has had little success (we don't, as a rule, allow her to slobber on the books), but every day, things are getting incrementally less safe around Sophie.

(She did manage a minor victory with a stuffed animal the other day.  This to the conflicted consternation of an employee who was torn between 1) an admiration for her cuteness; and 2) a desire to keep the merchandise unslobbered upon.)