Dog! Dog! Doggie!

This morning, A was between C and me in our bed while we (the grownups) tried to sleep. He stood up and looked out the window over our bed and started yelling what sounded like the same word over and over again.

I resigned myself to being awake, found my glasses and peered out. There were two coyotes playing right outside our window. A waved the white curtain around, pointed with his other hand, and said, "Dog! Dog! Doggie!" (At least, that's what it sounded like to us once we realized what he was pointing out.)

"Yes! I mean--no! That's a coyote, not a doggie, not that you'd know that, A," I said to him. He was thrilled. The coyotes saw the white curtain waving around and ran away. But yes, A has doggie. We'll work on coyote. I was amazed that he had "doggie," just because we don't have a dog. I guess I do point out the dogs that we see and he's pet some (the poodle being carried by the two gay men the other day comes to mind), but it still surprised me that he could make the leap. At least he didn't say "kitty."

It's hard to confirm that yes, doggie is probably the logical word but no, that's not a doggie. Maybe we'll have to spend some time in the zoo, although I don't think there's coyotes in the zoo.

Also in A news: he's been helping me with housework by handing me papers and envelopes to shred. (No, I don't let him touch the shredder. Jeez!) He thinks this is a fabulous thing. I must say, for the first time since we've lived here, all the shredding is done.