Puppy Love

Scarlett has only lived in an apartment. Her backyard is a tiny cement patio bordered with about five feet of scrubby grass. There’s no room, or even allowance, for most pets, especially dogs. Although both Nick and I had dogs growing up, since we aren’t planning on moving (or being able to afford moving) for quite some time, it seemed Scarlett would not experience all that comes with sharing space with man’s best friend. And then, when Scarlett was a year old, her Grandpa Dan brought home a little blonde bit of scruff and needle-sharp puppy teeth named Abbey. Scarlett was a baby who didn’t realize how hard you can squeeze a puppy. Abbey was a baby who didn’t realize how little force it takes to knock down a toddler. Somehow it worked. They have a very interesting relationship of antagonism and attachment that seems more sibling than owner and pet. Scarlett insists on putting Abbey on the leash and “walking” (which sometimes resembles dragging) her, even in the house. Abbey gets jealous of the attention Oba and Grandpa pay to Scarlett, and steals binkies every chance she gets. They are lucky enough to play and fight and grow together while we are lucky enough to watch. In Susan Hood’s The Furry Arms Hotel, Elmo and Baby Natasha play hide-and-seek with a little black puppy who may or may not be in any one of the many environmentally-diverse rooms. Only Natasha finds him, ‘cause babies are meant for each other.





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