Comparisons

I'm not much for being around kids of the toddler stage. They are loud. They bounce around a lot. They are often sticky. They are needy.

I adore being around my dogs. They are loud, especially when the squirrels are busy at the bird feeders. They bounce around a lot, from the front windows to the back windows to chasing the cats down the hall to checking out every single thing I do. They are often sticky (we won't describe the nasty things they find to roll around in). They are needy (I seldom sit for more than a minute or two without a warm body tucked in beside me).

Hmm.

It occurred to me awhile back that my unease around small kids might be alleviated if I just pretended they were dogs. It worked. I started talking to them like I talk to Coco and Mojo. If I know their parents well enough, I might share that information and they understand. I'm careful, though. Some parents get a little torqued at the idea.

A close friend of mine has a toddler who is approaching the age of two. I don't see Victoria very often, but she's a cutie and she now has her own blog. (You can find a link over in the left column.) A few days back she included a poem called The Toddler's Creed. It could just as easily be The Rat Terrier's Creed.

The Toddler's Creed
If I want it, it's mine.
If I give it to you and change my mind, it's mine.
If I can take it away from you, it's mine.
If I had it a little while ago, it's mine.
If we are building something together, all the pieces are mine.
If it has your name on it, it's mine.
If it looks just like mine, it's mine.
If it's mine, it will never be yours, no matter what.

Several of my readers out there are grandmothers and dog lovers. Thought you might appreciate the sentiment.

LSW