Sitting here recovering from this morning’s headache, I’m watching Fiona play tug-of-war with the dog we’re watching.
Now, if you’ve grown up with dogs, this might not seem like a big deal. For us, it is.
Fiona has never been comfortable around dogs. Our life so far has made caring full time for a pet impractical. Even when she’s gotten to know a dog well, like Boston the giant chocolate puffball her adopted pseudo second family’s dog, she’s always a little hesitant.
Since we’ve been here, she’s decided that this is her dog to care for. She’s very conscious of walk time. She watches his water and food bowls. She worked hard to make him comfortable sleeping on his bedtime pillow in her room instead of his usual place in ours.
In short, she’s doing stuff I never thought she would.
And now, she’s playing a fairly tough game of fling and toss the chew toy, boldly grabbing it from under his nose, then holding it up while he jumps to grab it from her hands, bouncing off her tummy and generally turning it into rugby.
It’s some fairly significant emotional progress for a fairly cautious bookworm of a little girl, and I like it.
Updated August 19, 2010 with this photo of Fiona walking Brodie: