This one’s for the grandparents: Something else to list in the con column of being allergic to hair-bearing animals – Max LOVES dogs. The kid isn’t even two, and he’s in love with them. I took him outside for a romp (I swear that’s what he does. He doesn’t walk, he romps) after dinner. In the space between our collection of townhouses and the next, there’s a large grassy hill that Max likes to play in. He’ll roll down it, or drop small rocks through the holes in the storm drain to listen to them hit the bottom. Once he hears the clink of the pebble on the bottom, he looks up with a smile on his face and waves his cute reverse “bye-bye” wave.
Oh, wait, we were talking about the dogs. Dog #1, a black lab, was in his fenced backyard in the next section of townhomes. Max saw him and went toddling over to take a peek. He would stare through the slats of the fence trying to get a better look. When the dog would bark, he’d jump back and giggle like he’d just made a new friend. When the owner came and took the dog inside, Max looked around the fence for the dog, kept waving his poor little bye-bye wave, and looking up at me, asking me to bring the dog back to play. When I couldn’t, he got, well, pissed.
After he calmed down and we were back to romping up and down the sidewalk came dog number 2, a pretty golden retriever that belongs to the couple one townhouse down from us. Max intercepted them on the way back from their walk and circled that poor dog mercilessly until Max got close enough for the dog to lick Max’s fingers. Max was in toddler heaven. He had way too much fun playing with, petting and just looking at that dog. It makes me feel bad that the kid probably won’t get one… so there.