No, this is not a piece about Biscuit books, where every other line is “Woof, woof.” But if we were reading Biscuit, my daughter, Rose, would be able to read most of the book despite her just over twenty word vocabulary.
While on vacation in Maine last month, we made the most of a cloudy day by visiting Portland. We walked in and out of the small shops, tried potato donuts, and watched the tugboats. We also discovered that Rose is a dog whisperer. We must have taught her that dogs day “woof,woof,” or she picked it up somehow, because every dog on the street got the same excited greeting from Rose, “woof,woof.” We laughed and had to stop and look for the dog that she had spotted every time she started her salutation, thinking she must just be barking for fun. But, sure enough, every “woof” was intended for a new furry friend that she seemed to spot from very far distances.
The barking continued when we got home. Rose used her new form of communication to chat with our own dogs and any other she met, at the park, on walks, or even in the grocery store when she spied a picture of a dog.
Last week, while rocking Rose in her room, part of our bedtime routine, she popped up from her snuggly place on my chest and started “woofing.”
“Rosie, there are no doggies here you silly girl. Do night night,” I instructed her.
She was insistent. “Puppy,” she said, pointing up. “Woof! Woof!”
I looked up to see the homemade mobile a friend made, three twigs with hand sewn birds sitting on each one. I laughed as I realized Rose was barking at the birds.
“Those are birds!” I told her. “Birds say tweet tweet.”
Rose attempted the word bird and she tried to tweet. However, a week later, I remind her nightly that the birds are not dogs.