Puppy

"The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too."  ~Samuel Butler

No, our family did not get a dog, we got the next best thing, a giant stuffed dog.  Maeve is nearly as enamored of him as she is of her blanket, and that's saying something.  Although having him sit around the house just reminds me how excited I am to get a Golden Retriever (or mix thereof) in the future, when we have a yard.  

It's definitely puppy love season around here.  The routine generally follows this pattern: Maeve wanders around playing with various toys, then suddenly remembers her big stuffed dog, throws herself on top of him, bites his face with glee, and rolls around on his back. (And I think to myself, thank goodness he's not real!) If her blanket is also in the vicinity, it gets brought into the game, too, with affectionate biting and rolling. 

The best part for me is the look of total and utter glee on her face.  Maeve has found her Elysian Fields, her happy place, her utopia.  No matter how bad her teeth are hurting her, or if she just managed to slam her own fingers in the door again,  or Mom says no to something, her puppy and her blanket are right there, and they make it all better for about ten seconds, after which she can trot off to some new misadventure.

And they called it Puppy Love