That's My Dog

Here's the second installment of my weekly Beatrice posts.

Beatrice, when you were about a year old you started associating dogs (in books and in real life) with the woof sound. That was one of your tricks for a while: "What does a doggie say?" "Woof, woof." You don't fall for that show and tell routine anymore but you still say woof about 42 times a day.


You haven't quite mastered mama or dada or many other words just yet but woof, woof is an old standby. You've added your Beatrice spin so that all animals say woof, woof... cats, lions, horses. If it remotely looks like an animal, it says woof woof. Every morning when watching Curious George while mama and daddy try to squeeze out 2 more winks of sleep, you point and say woof, woof when Georgie comes onscreen. When we read the Corduroy Halloween book, you point at Corduroy and say woof, woof. When you pull back the curtains and look out the front window, you point to Bob and Irene's house and say, woof, woof (they have tiny, fluffy dog, Lucy, that you love.) When we go to Nanny's and you see Black Kitty (ya, I know, it's a very creative name) you point and say woof, woof. Sometimes you will change the tone of woof, woof to be a bit more high pitched so as to sound like mee-oww. I guess in your eyes, every animal has a little dog in 'em.

Rest assured the irony of your first real word being woof has not been lost on your mother and father. We are not what you would call animal people. I'm sorry to tell you this way but you will never have a dog. Ever. Ever. Evar. Well, maybe if you start saying mama soon....