To the vast constellation of things that I thoroughly enjoy about the girls, I'm afraid I must add another little star. This is one of those dastardly things that may, over time, become exasperatingly tiresome. It is: Lily giving the dog a treat.
She hasn't gotten out of hand with it yet (oh, how that time shall come); it is still a sickeningly cute little girl-dog transaction. Normally, this happens when we leave the house, as we always give the pooch a snack when we go. Lily picked up on this a while ago, and started asking for the treat so she could act as middleman. Or middlegirl.
Lately, we've advance to a point near total autonomy. I can be standing by the door with both Olly and Lily at my feet and the treat in my hand. "Olly, couch!", I speak, and off he scampers obediently (which is rare). I give Lily the treat, and - I smile just thinking about it - she trots off after him, rounds the corner, and sticks her arm out. In a feat of physics-laws-breaking, she is able to stretch her arm farther than it actually is long...amazing...with the treat clutched at the very tip. She inches closer, until the dog closes his beagley jowls over her hand and takes the treat.
Yesterday this happened, and it was followed by Lily running back over to me in order to be scooped up and send us off on our merry errands. She runs like a moron, of course, making a monkey face and monkey sounds to match, ecstatic over having given the dog his yummy nugget.
Today, the same exact thing happened, only she ran in the opposite direction - away from me - after the exchange. "Hey!" I yelled after her. "Ha ha ha!" she retorted. I had to chase her down while Olly watched us warily, smacking noisily on his morsel.
Day one hundred and seventy nine.
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