The Boy Child is reading, prompting exclamations of surprise from the Girl Child (me) and the parents. The last time he sat down to voluntarily read anything in book form was Harry Potter IV or V, and since then it has been a steady diet of Car magazine lingo (4wd, HMY), Uncle John’s Bathroom Readers, and school books he’s forced to read. Books in general are an anathema, something that gets in the way of quality television viewing (the History Channel’s History of Cement) while sipping a beer.
But the last three times I’ve seen him their have been books, stacks of them of them being hauled back and forth to his truck with ever visit. The sit next to him on the couch if he gets a chance to sit down. They rest on this night stand when he goes up to bed. These books go everywhere with him.
No surprise really, a new female in a man’s life can make changes.
My soulful eyes, you will look deep within them and feel the need to give me bacon.
Her name is Leah, and this bit of Doberman terror is whipping him into to shape…when she’s not snuggling or trying to pierce someone’s ear with her sharp little baby teeth.
All joking aside,* the Boy is reading again and I am proud of him.
Even if the reading is prompting comments like the following (made on a call to home to the parents):
“All the books say to make the crate a happy place for her to sleep. I’ve tried everything—putting treats in there and her favorite toys. But, Mom, her crate is not a happy place.”
I’ve said it before that my brother is not a reader—he doesn’t like it—and I have no doubt that once Leah masters a certain level of training his reading will once again be something relegated to bathrooms and waiting rooms. As least until my first two legged niece comes along, then I expect to hear, “Linsey, it says to make her crib a happy place, but…”
Of course, that better not happen anytime soon. A four-legged niece is all I need. And since that four-legged niece is just now mastering the basics of sitting on command (!) sometimes (!) when she feels like it (!), I doubt he’ll stop reading anytime soon. Given that dog training is very individual to each person and their (very stubborn) dog, I have no doubt that there will be many, many books in his future.
And perhaps a trip to see the Dog Whisperer as well.
Ceser Milan! He is calling me!
*The part about the piercing your ear is not a joke. It’s her favorite game. She’s starts out giving you kisses and just kind of forgets that your ear is attached to your body and not a soft, pliable object just begging for puppy chewing. Apparently this how she likes to wake people up.