Puppy Love & Kisses

Kenny used to have a little stuffed dog, which he was never overly attached to, but played with from time to time.   We lost it while we were in Hawaii last month… apparently it fell out of his stroller during a walk in Lahaina town.   Twice.   It was returned to us the first time by a young man who had spent the night on the beach, thanks to being kicked out of his apartment, and used Puppy as a pillow.   Alas,  Puppy’s good fortune was short-lived, as Kenny dropped it again out of his stroller the very next day, and he was never seen from again.  

But wouldn’t you know it, yesterday we saw one that looked just like it in the Hallmark  section of the grocery store.   Kenny nearly flung himself out of the cart in joyous  delight at the sight of the long-lost pal.   (I bought it, of course.   Who could say no?)   Anyway, Kenny spent most of the day yesterday totting “Puppy!” around, and generally sharing his day with him.   Puppy ate with us, played t-ball with us, went on a walk with us and helped spy out the mouse in Goodnight Moon with us.   But the kicker was snacktime:   Kenny had eaten roughly half a wheel of smoked gouda (his favorite… don’t ask), and asked for more.   I said, “No, honey; you’ve had enough” at which point he thrust Puppy into my face and said, “Cheese!   Puppy!   Pa-leelee?”   Oh, could anyone resist that?   I carved out another slice and he actually pretended to feed it to his stuffed puppy, making sounds and everything.   Then he hunched up his shoulders and turned around ever so slightly, and, thinking I couldn’t see him, he  quickly stuffed the gouda into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and turned around to repeat the charade.

This went on for about eight slices before I cut him off.   He tried the same thing today when he asked for a cookie and I said no.   “Puppy!   Too-Tee!   Pa-leeelese?”   “Puppy wants a cookie?”   “Puppy!”   “No.”   “Puppy!   Puppy!”   “Oh, well, maybe one…”   I’m a sucker.   And you have to admit that this kid has flare.

But don’t think that this love affair with Puppy has in anyway diminished his adoration of Dudley.   Dudley will always be Kenny’s number one pal.   He follows him around, climbs all over him, feeds him his unwanted vegetables and curls up next to him when Dudley’s trying to take a snooze.     All in all, you might say that Dudley is Kenny’s first best friend.   Except I might need to find him some  different friends, because today while I was getting dressed, I heard a wild cackle burst from around the corner.   I leaned around and there was Kenny, tongue sticking out and Dudley licking his face with abandon.   I grabbed Kenny and said, “NO!   Kenny, don’t do that!” and he cackled louder, lunged at Dudley, mouth open and submitted himself to another kissy-face.   Gross.   So gross.   Dudley claims it wasn’t his fault, of course.   I mean, what would you do?