“just a small boy on her bike”
Dog is like a beacon to small children. Which is cool – he gets lots of petted when we’re in public, and i get to explain that just because he is the sweetest thing in the world does not mean it’s a good idea to run up and start petting a strange dog from behind. And sometimes i have 20-minute conversations with 7-year-olds who can’t stop petting him until their parents drag them off, or i introduce him to the lady who couldn’t bear to look in my direction when she realized i was there with my girlfriend and then we talk about the wonders of mutts and dog-rescue (and i like to think that maybe, perhaps, it’s changed her perspective a little).
This morning there was a small gaggle of small children. The littlest girl asked politely if she could pet Dog. Which, of course, she (and her cohorts) could. I do love it when they’re smart enough to ask. She called to “Grace!” (because it is important that everybody experience the Zen that is Dog). Dog was thrilled – he was completely encased in attention. I was thrilled because Grace was the 11-year-old boy with blond curls poking out from a baseball cap, cargo shorts and an athlete shirt. I was smiling anyway, but i had to suppress a grin. It’s been a long time since i’ve seen that kind of tomboy (or, since i’ve know it, ’cause on a glance i’d have never noticed her).
There’s a lot of theory-study i could go into here; it plays right into all the gender fun that i love to talk about, but it’s so much simpler than that. That was me! I was that kid!
Maybe i’m getting old.
“When I Was a Boy” – Dar Williams