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Salvy


Salvy breaks down walls. Literally.

There is a gate between my house and the neighbor's house, and Salvy has sort of destroyed the gate. He hurls himself at the neighbors, who seem OK with this. In fact, this couple recently lost their own dog, and they don't want to buy another one for their daughter--so Salvy creates a win-win scenario. (He invents a little break for the Barrett-Solomons, and a little canine love for the girl-in-mourning one door down.)

Other neighbors--mean, emotionally-constipated neighbors--are charmed by Salvy. These neighbors--not next-door, but kitty corner--can be tight-lipped. But Salvy doesn't care. Recently, he found a way into their yard, and then into their actual house. He was not dissuaded by various gossipy stories he had heard about these neighbors. I admire that.

My life has changed in drastic ways over the past several months. At times, I feel like I exist mainly to shovel food into small beings, then scoop up the poop that inevitably follows the feeding session. This reached new heights of absurdity, recently, when I became distracted by a book, and looked up to discover that Salvy was actually trying to lick baby poop off the corner of my son's diaper, as my son giggled. I'm not a negligent dad! I did catch this, and I did correct the situation.

And here, again, I have to praise Salvy. The resourcefulness. The indomitable spirit. I'm inspired by that guy.

He is four years old today; I wish him all the best. I'm very happy to have him in my life.
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