Cheese Alert

I know it's kind of cheesy, but the whole time we were waiting/trying to have kids, and especially when we were matched with Sam and waiting for him to come home, I kept imagining how great it would be to see my son with my dog, Frankie. (Yes, I have two dogs, but in my mind, Frankie was destined to be a boy's best friend.)

I'll admit that perhaps I've been a bit more than suggestive of the notion that Sam and Franklin are *supposed* to be pals. Sam's big boy room is decorated in Pottery Barn Kids "My Best Friend" pattern which is, as you might imagine, dog-themed. There's an awesome watercolor of Frankie hanging on the wall. I constantly try to get pictures of the two of them together.

Alas, Sam and Frankie don't have much more than an occasional passing interest in one another. Sam's not terribly fascinated by any creature that can't talk back to him or rewind Bob the Builder at the appropriate moment. Franklin, whose main pasttime is sleeping, is none too comfortable in range of a two-year-old who's wont to tug on his tail and then wail when the dog darts off. Their most common shared experience is that of Sam shrieking for Frankie to "get away, doggie. That's MY food," when the pup gets too close to a snack Sam's enjoying. (For the record, this has happened once too often, actually. The dogs have been banned from the house when Sam's eating anything. Anyone who knows Rob and I from our pre-child days would probably gasp at the notion that we'll even consider canine banishment.)

The story has a new chapter today, and I'm a very proud mommy for it.

Frankie has become a teeny bit braver about nuzzling me when Sam's nearby lately. He's either decided Sam is predictable enough to take the risk or is just so attention starved that he no longer cares what he has to do to have his ears scratched. With Sam on my lap, Frankie came up for a pet today. Sam asked, giggling, what Franklin was doing when he lifted a paw to my knee to get my attention. When I replied that Frankie was "saying he loves us," Sam told me that he loved Frankie, too.

Then... He got down, went and got his blankie, petted Frankie's back ever-so-gently until the dog laid down (understanding that the situation wasn't dangerous) and then wrapped Frankie up. He told me that he was tucking Frankie in for a nap and then proceeded to lay his own head down on Frankie and told me to "Shhh. Frankie's sleeping now."

Sam loves Frankie. Frankie loves Sam. Maybe my not-so-subtle efforts to force the friendship weren't in vain?