Walkin' the Dogs

Where have I been? worrying about swine flu, meeting with contractors, calling roofers, trying to decide on black-out blinds for the boy who likes 5:45 a.m., feeling tired, cleaning the kitchen, having the appraiser over, cleaning the entire house for the appraiser, dealing with bubs' new round of mama-separation-anxiety brought on by - i don't know - swine flu?

etc etc etc

But as a mea culpa for my silence so far this week (how did it get to be Thursday already anyway), I offer you a very cute picture of a very cute boy, walkin' his doggies. 

There are three of them in that compact bundle in his arms, Bernese Mountain dogs (purebred of course), one "old doggie" and two "fluffy doggies." Lately, Elan has been into making them into a family. Ironically, old doggie is the baby, and the fluffies are mama and dada doggie. It gets even more mind-bending when he says, "What happened to old doggie? Old doggie gonna turn into fuffy doggie." This always reminds me of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which I haven't seen, or my MFA professor's book The Confessions of Max Tivoli, which represent the only version of reality I can think of in which old doggie has a chance of reinhabiting his former fluffy self.

But honestly, if he had the choice, I don't think he'd want to. Old doggie is the one Elan reaches for, the one whose ear he massages all night long, the one he searches for when he needs comfort or companionship or just someone to toss around and hear land with a satisfying stuffed-animal plop on the hard slate floor. What doggie in his right mind would give up that kind of love?