06/01/2007

Meet Poochini. 'Pooch' is the new dog on the block in my parent's neighborhood. A special breed incorporating several froo-froo type dogs that claims to be a 'non-shedder' and completely hypo-allergenic, Pooch is probably worth more than our car. Nathan is a bit perplexed by the size of this dog...after all, he is accustomed to bossing around Duke, our great dane. Still, even a small dog is better than no dog at all, and Nathan has thoroughly enjoyed playing with Poochini.

Today Pooch paid Nathan a visit. Pooch was accompanied by her owner, Michael, and arrived willing to endure another round of 'pull-the-ears' and 'grab-the-tail'. I missed the first part of the visit, but came out for the later half. By this time Nathan had almost forgotten Pooch's presence. He was busy buckling his stroller and playing with a basketball. I sat down next to Pooch and started petting her. This caught Nathan's eye. He opted to give the dog a bit more attention, too. Nathan came cruising over toward me, basketball in his arms, and sat down on the sidewalk. It was in the brief moments to follow that Nathan made a cognitive connection that included:

1.) How fun it is to play with the basketball.
2.) How fun it is to play with Poochini.
3.) How fun it is to play ball (albeit a tennis ball) with Hobbs and Duke.
4.) How fun it would be to play fetch with Poochini.

Unfortunately, a basketball lacks numerous traits that a tennis ball possesses. After all, it is much larger, heavier, and more difficult to throw. Before I caught on to this new plan, Nathan was throwing the ball directly at Pooch. Thud! Pooch nearly went in to cardiac arrest as this ball (approximately her size) landed solidly on her rear end. As soon as she could make herself move, she leaped up and ran as far as her leash would let her go. 'Good running!' Nathan probably thought. 'The fetching, though...not so good.' Nathan really had no clue why his idea hadn't worked. Why had Poochini not dutifully returned the ball to him? Why had she run away? Why was Mom laughing? What had gone wrong?

Well, the good news is that the million-dollar dog lived, and aside from some severe emotional trauma, will probably be good as new in a day or so. The bad news is that I am humbly reminded that I'm in no way prepared to keep up with this little toddler. His mind works in ways that I cannot understand or predict. I try my best, but in some ways, his thinking is far more advanced than mine....or maybe, his thinking is just so primitive that I find it impossible to revert back and track with him. Expect the unexpected, right? Sorry, Poochini!