"Why is Lindsay licking her paws," Griffin asked his mother.
Heather thought for a minute. Griffin had seen Lindsay many times on his visits with us, but this time, for some reason, his six year old brain was fascinated by everything Lindsay did, or didn't do.
"She's just cleaning her paws, the way you would do if you got chocolate on your fingers," Heather, his mother replied. "Remember yesterday when that chocolate melted on your hands?"
But before he could answer, his 9 year old sister suddenly squealed. "Eewwww! What's she licking now?"
Lindsay, being a fastidious little dog, had moved on to other body parts deserving of attention.
"She's licking her tail," laughed Griffin. For a moment, we all thought his innocent explanation might satisfy his older sister.
But, budding scientist that she is, Natasha looked a little closer only to recoil in horror. "No she's not! Look Griffin, she's licking her bum!"
Griffin looked closer and laughed harder. "Mom why is Lindsay licking her bum?"
While Lindsay went on licking. It being important to her to do a very thorough job.
Griffin, Natasha and Heather were over visiting with us for Linda's birthday prior to our going downtown to see the Nutcracker at the new Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts. One of Linda's fondest memories was of our taking our daughters Kathy and Heather to see the Nutcracker when they were our grandchildren's age and she has long dreamed of repeating the experience with Natasha.
Of course she hoped Griffin would enjoy the ballet too, but she would be content if he just managed to keep his normal inquisitive nature at rest through the performance.
After taking a good look at what Lindsay was indeed licking, Griffin scrambled back up into his chair and buried his head in a cushion in embarrassment. "I can't look," he explained. "That's disgusting."
Lindsay, with a strongly defined inquisitive nature of her own, noticed Griffin's little bum now stuck up in the air, ceased her personal ablations and decided to see if Griffin needed her attention. Her cold wet nose twitched cautiously as she approached the little 6 year old with his head safely buried in the pillow and the part of most interest to dogs tantalizingly within reach.
Anticipating what was about to happen, Natasha screamed.
"No, Lindsay! No!" Heather, Linda and I yelled in unison. Too late.
And in the resulting chaos, Heather adroitly managed to get out of answering Griffin's earlier question.
And I began to suspect our trip to the ballet might prove to be even more fun than I had ever hoped.
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