Yesterday I was at a gala fête in another part of the country. A grand catered affair with lots of hobnobbing. Three dogs and a few children, including one six-month-old baby, were among those in attendance, and all were better behaved than most adults on the subway.
One dog loved the baby. The baby was lying on the floor as his mother was preparing him for his trip home. He was completely quiet and still, relaxed and smiling his round-eyed, crooked mouth smile, as the dog gently licked his cheek. The baby did not act startled or cry. He just let the dog do it. I had admired each of them separately throughout the day for various reasons (but no, at no time did I coo over the baby, although I did over the dog), but at that moment was completely enamored.
The best part was when the dog picked up the baby in her mouth (she was careful not to tear his overalls strap), walked him over to the bountiful vegetable display, and dipped his face into, well, the dip (I think it was dill), gently, set him back down on the floor, and licked his face again. When she wanted more, she availed herself of a spoon and placed several small dollops on his very delicious creamy white cheeks, which she then delicately licked clean.
“It’s amazing, how well-trained she is,” I said to the baby’s mother. “No double-dipping!” She agreed.
“Well, that would just be rude,” the dog said.
“And disgusting,” the baby said.
A good time was had by all.