The Diggie

This is of my favorite pictures of little man.

Although I mostly blog about my "human" son, in actuality I have another son - my West Highland White Terrier, Casper.

And yes, I do consider him very much to be my first born.

Casper joined our family in 2000, shortly before the husband and I got hitched. (Yes, we had an illegitimate puppy.)

When little man came along one of my biggest anxieties was how well Casper would make the adjustment to not being an only child anymore. I admit, I may have a freakish attachment to my dog. Fortunately, Casper took well to his new role as a big brother. After a quick sniff of little man's feet and a lick in the eye, Casper had accepted little man as a part of the family.

And even though Casper would never admit it, he loves the little guy. Especially now that little man has learned that Casper will gladly eat any dinner item that he himself does not want to eat. The two have already begun to gang up against me at dinner time. Little man also loves his brother, to which he refers to as his "diggie." (Don't ask, my best assumption would be that it is a 2-year-old's dialect of "doggie," but I really am clueless on this one. But, hey, it works.)

But, like any other sibling relationship, these two brothers have had their trials and tribulations. And Casper has learned that little man can be quite the pesky little brother.

Like stealing his bed ...

And stealing his toys ...

I have long suspected that Casper thought himself to be more human, than dog. I admit, I may be somewhat at fault for this. Did I mention I may have a freakish attachment to my dog? However, I never thought I would see the reverse of this - that my son would think of himself as more dog than human. But parenthood does have its surprises.

Lately, little man has become fond of a new game in which he declares himself to be a "doggie," then proceeds to crawl around on all fours saying "arf, arf" and panting, just like his diggie. He will even crawl up to you and give you a "doggie kiss" which entails you being licked upside the cheek with a full toddler tongue, all the while he goes "pphhfffluuuuuuppppp."

And yes, he really does go "pphhfffluuuuuuppppp."

And yes, it is pretty dang cute.

However, last weekend, my husband didn't account for our son's full understanding of the English language.

As little man was demonstrating to Grandma and Papa his doggie alter-ego, my husband decided to chime in with the brilliant words of "You aren't a doggie, you don't have a bone in your mouth."

And with that, my little man proved that he does in fact understand much more of the English language than he is capable of actually speaking.

After a short bolt to the living room (crawling, like a doggie, of course) little man returned to the kitchen with this gem in his sweet little mouth:

A gnawed on, "bacon" flavored nylabone that has been slobbered on, chewed on and left in unmentionable places for far too long. It also has been in the mouths of no less than four other dogs, who have also slobbered on, chewed on and left the bone in unmentionable places.

A million different things immediately came to my mind - foremost being the million different germs residing on said gnawed bone.

But, there sat my little man, grinning from ear to ear, with his trophy in his mouth.

And all I could do was grin along with him.

Until I was able to run upstairs for his Elmo toothbrush, at least.