Sunday, October 03, 2004


And ... more photos! I know, I haven't been posting much stuff lately. Work has been busy lately. My mom has just had a surgical procedure, and she is doing well and resting at home. We all wish her a speedy recovery.

We were heading out the door to go to a church picnic today. I was just heading out to the car, carrying Sam, when he suddenly, coughed, choked, and threw up a big gush of sour apple juice smelling vomit that covered both Sam and myself. Yeesh! Kids, I tell ya. It's a good thing he's so cute. So we went upstairs and took a bath, and now Sam and I are hanging out while Kathleen and the kids are at the picnic. Sam seems to be feeling better.

I have been trying to teach Sam about dog biscuits. I grabbed three or four biscuits, and then showed them to Sam, handing them to Patra, one by one. I pointed out the dog, said "Bap-Ba!" Which is Sam-speak for Patra, and then handed Patra the biscuit. I look at Sam and say "these are for the dog, okay?"

Sam looks at me and nods. "Okay"

I say again, "these aren't or little buys and girls, they're or Bap-Ba, okay?"

Sam looks and says "Okay" again. He seems to know what I am talking about.

I hand him a biscuit. He puts it in his mouth. "No!" I say, and pull his arm down. Patra is inching in towards the biscuit. "This is or the dog. Ok?"

"OK" Sam says, and tries to put it in his mouth again.

We go through this a few more times. Patra is staring at the biscuit with a little tendril of drool hanging down from her snout. She is being incredibly patient, as usual.

Sam starts to wander off. He doesn't eat the biscuit, but he won't give it to Patra either. Patra is following him around. Sometimes Patra will get her mouth around the biscuit, but then Sam squeals and Patra backs away. The biscuit is now covered by dog spit though, as is Sam's hand.

I gently take the biscuit away from his hand. "Look, the biscuit is for Patra." Sam seems to be getting it. I give the biscuit to Patra, who inhales it into her mouth and then scoots off to enjoy the biscuit somewhere Sam can't find him.

Sam looks at me, at his hand, now with no biscuit. His mouth opens, his face wrinkles. He starts to howl. Little tears fall down his cheeks. I get up off the floor and go to get another biscuit.

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