me: Hey, you wanna come help me get dinner ready in the kitchen?
me: Why not? You love helping in the kitchen.
son: Um...I'm getting comfy with my puppy.
me: You know she is not a pillow pet.
son: Yes, she is my comfy pillow. She is my puppy.
She is not really a puppy anymore. Our sweet little puppy is eight or nine years old, which is way older than our three year old. She has loved him since the day he was born though.
|On guard the first day.|
She was our practice baby before we had our real babies. When she was a puppy Mr. PJ would carry her around in his arms all day. She has adapted without hesitation to new homes and both of our babies. Most importantly both of our babies adore her.
|"She is my Clifford!"|
We have taught him how to be gentle with her. He doesn't try to ride her like a horse anymore. His only chores are to feed her and let her outside to go potty. He takes this responsibility very seriously and loves out puppy dearly. Really she is already an old girl and I worry about what will happen when she is gone. She is smart and sweet and for now I will tolerate the white fur on everything because we love her.
This past Sunday the baby was sleeping between Mr.PJ and myself. She is nine months and trying to talk a little, not doing more than "mamamama" and "dadadada". Anyway, I was watching her wake up and she smiled with recognition when she saw me and her daddy. Then she sat up and saw the dog at the foot of the bed. She let out a gasp and said, "A puppy!" It was too darn cute.
|Pretending to be a jackrabbit.|