I had my two dogs, roaming around off leash like a responsible pet owner, and as my older more well behaved dog introduced himself, sniffing and circling, the oldest child kept a watchful eye out for danger. But then came Mason, my husky mix, galloping towards this tentative situation with all of the finesse of a steam engine. The boys, maybe 6 and 4, panicked, their dogs were puppies after all. I assured them that Mason was friendly and that his growling was only his way of playing. I’m a dad now, and I have a soft spot for kids, especially younger ones scared for their dogs.
Leashes tangled as we tried to coral our respective pets. I was able to get a hand on Mason’s collar—no small feat, and then the dad went to wrangle up the puppy, calling after him, or in this case….her. Sweetie, Sweetie, come here Sweetie!
I spun around, perhaps a little too quickly, at the guy calling for….Sweetie, the dog. I tried not to make a big deal out of the situation, no one else seemed to pay it any mind. But we all know that little girl named that dog and I left thankful that I have a boy. I came away from that quick encounter thinking about that guy. What a good Dad, unashamed and proud to have a dog named Sweetie. I can picture him taking his fair share of ribbing when the guys come over to watch the ball game. "Hang on guys, I gotta let Sweetie out to potty."
I give him all the credit in the world, and I hope that dog grows up to be an 80lb beast who sleeps beside that little girls bed and dares anyone to say anything about his name. Or maybe I'm looking just a little too far into this....