Papaya Mom

Peter is my Dog who I named after a High School friend. He’s getting old, but is sweet in his gray snout kind of way.

Papaya is afraid of dogs, all of them big and small. We’ve been working on that and she is really improving as long as the dog in question is not a barking monster dog (ie. anything making noise or putting it’s heanous snout near her).

This morning we went out into the front yard as soon as that lazy sun rose (we were up at five in the pitch dark) with a cookie for Peter. We fed him, said his name about a billion times and signed “Dog” and said “Dog” very seriously as if I’d forgotten that this animal was not called a “Peter” but it was for sure a “Dog.” Eventually we learned that this Dog is named Peter, like Grammy’s cat is named Sammy.

After about five minutes we were warmed up to it and ended up chasing Peter in circles around the yard yelling his name and pointing at him. If he barked, we were a bit scared, but other than that it was fun. At one point she stopped, looked seriously at Peter who sat there looking back with love and confusion at this litlle human and said “Peter. Rosy. ROSY!”

Yep, my kid likes Ring around the Rosy, and she’ll even play with a Dog.

Since then we’ve had to go outside to see Peter twice and we talk about him when we are not at home. Oh, what a long 20 days this will be if all she wants is to play “Rosy” with Peter.

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