Grandmom: Crispy Encounters Toddlers

Crispy Encounters Toddlers

Since we are going to be getting together here fairly often, I think I ought to tell you about a very central character in my life. He is a 2 year old Norwich Terrier named Crispy. “That’s such a cute name,” people say, apparently reminded of tasty snacks. But the name “Crispy” has nothing to do with food. I crowned him “Crispy” after the lead character in one of Margaret Wise Brown’s (author of Goodnight Moon) little known picture books, Mr. Dog. Her fictional dog’s formal name is “Crispian,” inspired by Brown's own badly behaved pet. As most of Brown’s stories do, this book has a universal theme — it’s all about autonomy, the desire of every young child who feels constrained by adults’ “no-no’s.”

The author describes her fictional character as “his own dog”. He and he alone decides what he does and when he does it and he does just fine, thank you very much. I didn’t know what my puppy would turn out to be like, so I took a chance in naming him after such an independent character. But it was prophetic.

Crispy is the most individualistic dog I’ve ever known. Training rules don’t apply to him. He is clearly convinced that what happens next in our family is in his paws alone. He barks indignantly when he senses that I am going somewhere without him, yet barely lifts his head when I call him to come. There is an expression of “what’s in it for me?” Yet, at the same time, Crispy is the most emotionally attached dog I’ve ever known. He follows wherever I go, unless I ask him to, of course. And speaking of barking, he doesn’t let up when he hears a doorbell ring, even if it’s on TV. You can imagine the noise in our house during the “Trick or Treat” hours of Halloween.

Coincidentally, it was that night that I had the epiphany — a wave of sudden insight — that Crispy is not only two in years; he is a caricature of “the human toddler”: a naysayer who clings. Whatever you ask him to do, he says “No,” in his own language. But if you walk away from him, he comes running to reunite and is like glue until you ask him to do something totally reasonable, like “SIT.”

Crispy is behaviorally identical to a human toddler. He wants to be free, but won’t extend the same privilege to me. Interestingly too, this dog is remarkably simpatico with human toddlers, including those whose parents insist they are “afraid of dogs.” As I said, it all became clear to me on Halloween. A first time visiting 2 year old tried to break free from her mother’s arms as the mother insisted, “She’s afraid of dogs.” So afraid, I silently observed, that the toddler was taunting Crispy by doing a perfect imitation of his bark, almost nose to snout. There was not even a suggestion of fear on the child’s face as the two did a barking duet.

Just a week before, we had been visited by a 2 year old relative and his family. That toddler’s mission was the same — "Get Crispy.” The child kept saying, “Mommy, doggie go woof!” He reported the dog’s bad behavior, then imitated it, down on all fours to challenge the 12-pound beast. It was a stand-off, as it always is with Terriers and Toddlers, partly because neither can decide the first priority — to be free or indivisibly attached.

November 8, 2007