I cursed and ran to grab the broom and dust pan. As I returned to the closet-sized storeroom, I consoled myself with the thought that the dogs wouldn't mind a little dirt with their dog food. As I began to sweep up, I now counted four eager heads face first in the brown, red, and gold cornucopia of crunchy goodness.
"Kaden!" I shouted, dropping the broom. I lifted my sixteen-month-old grandson up and away. Denied his share of the treats set him off on a sobbing fit of toddler rage and frustration. Fastening him into the high chair took precious minutes, allowing handful after handful of kibble to continue to disappear.
Kaden has had to adapt to spending most days at Gran-pa and Ya-ya's house. He sobs piteously as Grandpa leaves the house each morning, but is unlikely to fuss when he leaves his mother on Sunday nights. Each day he demonstrates a sponge-like absorption of everything in his brave new world.
Most nights Gran-pa lifts and spins him high in the air and thrills him with well-tested silly facial expressions. Together they share quality guy time during late night moments of mutual insomnia, dozing off together in the big recliner watching NBA basketball or John Cena in yet another WWE smack down. When the dogs' bulging bladders awaken Ya-ya late at night, she smiles as Grandpa, fast asleep, keeps the remote in one hand and shelters Kaden and his spittle-covered binky with the other.
Ya-ya is less fun and must prevent Kaden from falling down the stairs or climbing on all the things that he knows that he can summit by himself. He resented being strapped into his high chair, even when it helps him to focus on the meal at hand. In a recent developmental milestone, he grasped that the high chair is less a prison than a magical source of power. The dogs that often bowled him over when he stood at their level, now obsequiously touch their noses to his feet. The wise toddler then magnanimously drops his surplus Cheerios to the three grateful creatures.
These canines tolerate Kaden's antics, though they all draw the line when he examines their every orifice with toddler fascination. The aged Avalon, often treated like a rug to be stepped on, merely moans placidly and moves a bit further away. Remy growls and barks when he fears his role as spoiled puppy has been usurped. Sparky is a rough collie and the most tantalizing of the three creatures. Kaden crawls all over him, exploring and pulling the many textures of his thick, snarled fur. As part of a symbiotic relationship, the collie expects that the toddler will in turn tip back his head after each meal and open his mouth to offer a taste of whatever remains masticated but unswallowed, and Sparky laps and cleans him thoroughly like any maternal creature in the wild. Together, these creatures attempt to express themselves and get complex needs met: building and knocking down, throwing and catching, barking and bellowing, demanding and rarely sharing.
This evening the dogs encouraged Kaden to join them in barking at passing cows and horses. But
Kaden chose to smile and sing to his own angelic image in the mirror. He later joined them and, wearing his clean socks and new shoes, stepped happily into the dogs' water bowls. The dogs will continue to be important instructors in his life and he in turn may learn to use his power wisely to enhance their quality of life in this tiny corner of earth.
