There is nothing in this world that Boone loves more than dogs. Whenever he sees a dog, his reaction goes a little something like this:
“Dog, dog, hi! Dog! Hello, dog! Dog, dog! Pat, pat, pat! Dog! Eeeee! Dog!”
Pure, rapturous delight. Flattered by his enthusiasm, normally grouchy southside Dubliners turn into very friendly people; they chat with us, tell us all about their dogs (we’ve met our fair share of Frankies, Fluffys, and Gibsys, to name a few), and take a great interest in Boone. Well, I say they take a great interest in Boone, but really, their dogs are the star of the show; Boone, for his part, is too busy saying “hallo, dog,” bending down to pat said dog and coming over all giggly whenever a doggy tongue licks his fingers, to notice anything else exists in the world.
So, on Saturday, we went to a very southside beach and since it was grey and cold, it was only parents and their children and dog owners and their dogs who were mad enough to be out. I don’t think either Joseph or myself were prepared for just how many dogs would be there (running free!) but suffice as to say, Boone was in heaven.
Side note: at Boone’s recent developmental check, the nurse asked me if he does role-play. I had to think about this. The nurse went on to explain “you know, frying stuff with the frying pan, cooking . . .” While I’ve seen him do this (tick that box!), Boone’s favourite role-play is called “I’m a puppy, love me,” whereby he goes on all fours and crawls around the place, panting, saying “puppay, pat, pat,” which is our cue to pat him on the head and shower him with compliments, such as “oh, lovely puppy, “he’s so cute,” etc. Sometimes, he barks. Woof! Sometimes, he licks. Llup, llup. I’m not entirely sure that this is what the nurse had in mind but, hey, it’s role-play, I’m going with it!
Unfortunately, I didn’t get a picture of what happens when we have to say goodbye to these dogs but it goes a little something like this:
“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Dog! Dog! Tidhoooooo.”
That last word would be “tissue,” you know, to wipe away his snot and tears. “Fastidious” as my mother puts it, even in times of high emotion.