running

Crawl, Walk, Run…CATCH ME!

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When did life get so serious?  Why have so many people decided that once they hit a certain age it’s inappropriate to laugh out loud and giggle and snort (ok, only some people snort when they laugh…I’m one of them…and THAT’S totally fine!)  Why can’t we laugh hysterically?  I believe that children have a secret that we have all forgotten about.

Here is the scenario.  Adult sitting and chatting with other adults.  Toddler walks by and yells “CATCH ME!”  Adults continue to discuss the news or politics or something else horribly dull and tedious.  Toddler yells louder “CATCH ME!”  Then toddler picks the “chosen chaser” by whacking them on the back.  That got me thinking?  How did this whole chase start?  I know that I pretend to chase them as soon as they are crawling, but how did this actually start?  Did people do this to teach their children to run away from animals or other threats?  If so, when did it go from being a scary thing to a super fun thing?  (See, there goes my adult brain again).  Let’s get back to the chase.

Toddler starts running.  Now, it is also quite interesting how a child runs.  When they are first introduced to this incredibly fun game, they will start running forward.  However, they will keep turning their head backward to watch the person chasing them and see how close they are.  It’s kind of funny watching them run into walls and doorways or trip over toys.  No, I’m not mean.  You would laugh too.  And they can’t run fast enough to actually do any damage.  The whole time the child is running away they are laughing hysterically, which oftentimes slows them down because there are just too many things on the go:  running forward, constantly looking backward, laughing, and the eventual crash into something.  That’s a lot for a little brain to maintain.

Now, once you catch them there is the obligatory tickling or perhaps even the toss up in the air.  Such an adrenaline rush!  Chaser starts walking away and hears “Catch me!”  Yup, time to do it all over again.  This game goes on for about 15 minutes.  After that the child is too exhausted to run and usually trips over their own feet.  The adult is also tired because it’s hard to run (and not run) fast because you can usually catch up to them in two steps.

Now, think about the actual expenses of a game like this one.  No dollar amount.  It’s cheap…unless you are counting losing 15 minutes of your life which you would probably spend doing something adult-like and boring.  Watching a child laugh and giggle makes you feel like a real superhero too.

When parents (guardians) buy toys for their kids, they try to find something that will make their eyes pop open wide with glee.  I find it interesting that as children grow up they will forget the “special” gifts you got for them.  Sure they might have a favourite teddy or blankie, but all the other toys will be forgotten.  What they will always remember is the time you spent with them.  The fun, goofy things you did with them.  Time is more valuable than monetary gifts.

So, when your grandson says to you, “Grandpa come catch me”, and you look at him and say, “I can’t run.  My knees are bad.”  Then the little 3 year old smarty pants giggles and says, “Grandpa, walk and catch me.”  Ha ha ha!  Genius reply!  He found the loop hole.  There will always be ways to play chase.  There will always be those magical memories that seem so insignificant to older people, but the kidlets will remember them forever.

Your time is valuable.  Do something fun with it.  Remember that if they are crawling, walking, or running you can always play the chasing game and feel like a kid again.  A creaking, arthritic kid, but you’ll appreciate that bit of time spent free-wheeling in KidWorld.

Time to end this short escapade of a story.  I’ve been whacked in the back…time to do some chasing!

 

Lucy… I’m Home! Lequitia? Looowee?

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I wrote about one dog love (my puppy / doggy Waldo) and today I will tell you the story of Lucy.  If you read my previous blog, you would’ve learned about my fear of dogs and how I came to own one myself.  This is the story of how a little black and white shi-poo came to be part of our family.

Waldo (a.k.a. “Fabio” the dog who believes he is the be all and end all) was our only fuzzy friend.  He came to us from a pet store that Princess worked at.  Hubby came home one day with a scared, little black Shi-poo.  She was being picked on by the pure bred shitzus so Princess asked if he could save her.  He did.  Roxanne became Waldo’s little sister.

Roxanne and Waldo were meant to be together.  Waldo was only one month older than his new sister.  When they napped, Roxanne would put her head on top of Waldo’s neck.  They ran around excitedly. Roxanne running out front and Waldo running after her.  We had a great little dog team, but it was short lived.  One day we had the backyard gate open and the chase continued from the backyard, spilling over into the front yard.  Speedy Roxanne ran happily out into the street and was hit by a passing pickup truck.  She died instantly.  Wiseguy and I were traumatized .  Waldo was devastated.  Waldo would sit by the window every day to try and find his playmate.  I thought we should find him someone new to play with.

Imagine my surprise when Wiseguy told me that he was coming home with a new puppy.  She was seven weeks old.  When I came home I couldn’t believe how tiny she was!  (Wiseguy named her Lucy because of the line from the “I Love Lucy” show where Desi would come home and holler “Luuuucy I’m home!”)  My wee little hairball had a head of black hair with white hairs just above the eyes;  they looked like an old man’s grey eyebrows.   Her black head sat on a completely white body.  So tiny and spunky and yippy and beyond adorable.  She was a shi-poo with spunk!  She was scampering around everywhere!  We found Waldo a new playmate!  Except for one thing:  Waldo hated her.

Waldo kept walking away from her.  He would climb on a step or jump on the couch so she couldn’t reach him.  Too much pawing and nipping and especially the scampering!  Poor Waldo.  We wanted to find him a mate and we found him an annoyance.  I guess that one year difference was just too much.  Oh well, Lucy was with us to stay.

Our new addition became ill after 3 months.  Lucy had strangles.  What?  Worse case scenario the illness could have strangled her to death.  For three months she had to take meds to kill her autoimmune system.  No regular dog walks because she could get an even deadlier infection.  Sadly her world exposure was quite hampered.  As such she barks at the following:  all people walking or running, people on bicycles or skateboards,  buses driving by, birds, leaves, air.  You get the idea.  For three months of her life all she had was Waldo as her dog example.  She even pees like Waldo; one hind leg up.   She never got to sniff or see or play with any other dogs.  She survived and became a unique (?) dog.

For some reason my little 10 lb. pup likes to play fetch.  A shi-poo that plays fetch?  Weird.  She likes to lick her paws like a cat.  When Waldo is looking out the window and barks at something outside, she will stand up on her hind legs and bark as well.  Why is she barking?  Because Waldo is.  If I leave them at doggie daycare, Waldo will hang out near her to protect her because she doesn’t really know how to be with dogs (we think she believes she is a cat).  After his big brother duty is done, he will saunter off.  Lucy will whine and be miserable if her big brother isn’t around.  Sounds like a regular human relationship between brother and sister right?

Although her name is Lucy, she will come when I call any name that starts off with the “loo” sound.  Lucy, Lulu, Lequitia (that was a favourite for a few months), Lucifer (haha), and most recently my niece’s little one who will be two in a couple of months called her “Loooweee”.  Lucy came.

So now you know the story of my two favourite cuddle-puppies.  Waldo, our pretty boy  who is very vocal when he wants something.  Lucy, the quiet cat-like dog who loves to cuddle and lick.  Lick everything and anything.  If she needs to go out she will sit and stare at you.   That’s your first clue.  If you don’t get it from that silent clue, she will jump onto your lap and start licking your face off.  No barking.  It’s her trademark “I need to poo” move.  Throw a ball and she will fetch to the point of retching.  Crazy dog.

If I had to do a dating profile for Lucy it would read as follows:  LOVE baths (I jump into the tub myself).  I HATE, HATE, HATE having my hair brushed.  Love walks so I can bark at everything and everyone.  Love to lick my paws.  Love to lick your face.  Love to be cuddled and coddled.  I will head butt you if you hold onto the ball and won’t throw it for me to fetch.  I am 7 years old and I run around like a puppy.  You may find me weird at first, but I have my own special qualities.  Love Lucy (aka Lequitia / Lucifer / Lulu / Loooweee)

P.S.  I love Waldo