Puppy attack
June 22, 2014
My toddler son loves animals. Unfortunately, it appears that he has allergies. It’s probably just as well we not have animals in the house.
I try to compensate by taking him for lots of walks around town. There is no shortage of animals to be found, both wild and domestic.
He recently fell in love with an adorable little puppy friend a few houses down. I’m not a dog person, but my best guess is he’s a golden lab or retriever, or some mix of the two.
Ever since his discovery, the toddler is forever trying to convince us to take him three houses down to catch a glimpse of his new favorite neighbor.
On a warm evening a few weeks ago, I agreed to let the seven-year-old walk his baby brother down to see the puppy while I watered the flowers.
When they reached the puppy’s house, I heard the toddler squeal with delight. “Puppy!” he said, pointing a chubby finger into the neighbor’s yard.
What happened next came right out of a buddy movie – two long parted friends running towards each other in slow motion.
Baby dog and baby human, desperate to connect; baby’s face glowing with happiness, puppy’s tongue wagging, ears flopping, clumsy feet plodding as fast as they could carry him towards open arms.
The puppy was used to humans much larger who knew to brace themselves against his enthusiasm.
Baby boy was used to being scooped up and embraced. Never in his short life has he had to steel himself against oncoming affection.
I started running before the two even reached impact. Still in slow motion, I watched the puppy jump, then heard the baby’s giggles become shrieks of terror as he went airborne.
The baby landed on the edge of the curb with his head and shoulders hanging over into the street.
The puppy licked his face mercilessly, blissfully lost in a moment of true love realized.
My older son proved he is the hero his little brother always knew that he was.
He picked up the puppy and held him at bay with one hand while carefully helping his wailing brother to his feet with the other.
The adults reached the scene at the same time. The puppy’s owner apologetically hauled away his bubbling bundle of pure joy. I scooped up the crying toddler and hauled him up the hill.
Both boys were shaken but not hurt.
Once the tears dried I knew what we needed to do. I was afraid if the baby didn’t kiss and make up with his puppy friend, he’d be afraid of dogs for the rest of his life.
We went back to the neighbor’s house and asked if we could visit with the puppy.
The puppy was just as excited to see his buddy as he was when he knocked him off his feet. But this time the grown-ups were there to mediate the meeting.
The baby was hesitant at first. But soon he was back to happily squealing “puppy!”
Turns out, we’ve been neighbors with the puppy’s owner for three years and we’d never met.
Sometimes it takes the little ones to slow life down long enough for the grown-ups to catch up.
This article first appeared in the Lewistown News-Argus and the Sidney (Mont.) Herald on June 22, 2014.
