Ray, of course, loves them. He heard their voices and immediately started lunging. All the kids backed away in fear and one of the little girls gave a little scream. "Sit," I said authoritatively. Ray sat, then flopped. The kids approached slowly. "Does he bite?" "What's his name?" asked the girls in rapid succession. "No," I said, "He loves kids. He just wants to lick your face and hands and arms and legs and neck, and his name is Ray." The kids laughed. Ray stood up and strained at the leash, he loves laughing kids. The kids retreated again but not so much. "Ray, sit!" I said. All the kids (well, all the one's that could talk) helped me out by saying "Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit, Ray."
Ray sat again and flopped over in the grass exposing his belly for a bellyrub, a big sloppy grin on his face, his tongue hanging out of the corner of his mouth. It was hot. He was panting. "Can we pet him?" asked the girl. "Of course!" I said. The nanny was grinning, she had met Ray before with some of the little ones and the same scenario had ensued.
The little girls knelt down and gingerly touched Ray's belly. Ray squirmed a little in delight and the girls got up and backed away a little, then, when he didn't move again, knelt back down to touch his belly again.
One of the girls pointed at Ray's male part and asked "What's that?" "Oh, that's his peepee," I said. "That's what boy dogs have." The littlest boy nodded his head knowingly and said "Peepee." Another of the little girls was looking interestedly at the Bagbag that I have attached to Ray's leash. "What's that?" she asked. "Oh, that's a bag that holds poop bags so when Ray goes poop I can pick it up." I replied "Does he poop in people's yards?" she asked. "Well, mostly he poops in the backyard but sometimes he poops when I take him for a walk and I have these bags so that I can pick it up and take it home and throw it away," I elaborated. The littlest boy nodded his head knowingly again. "Poop bag," he said, "Poop bag. Poop bag."
Wow, I thought, he sure picks things up quickly. And then I thought of how proud his mom was going to be when she arrives home from work and hears "Poop bag. Poop bag. Poop bag," all night long. I found myself hoping it wasn't one of his first words (peepee being the first).
I collected my dog and we skedaddled.
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