Defiant

"SIT." Fritz the surly Schnauzer turns head calmly away, clearly unfazed.

"Stay. SIT." Kidlet commands  urges -  almost as loudly as the furball's barks - in her mock authoratative voice. Fritz bolts back to the door to resume barking at the imaginary intruder. The sound is shrill and deafening. That dog occupies an octave all his own. Kidlet and I protest in chorus - two part harmony, and Kidlet stomps to the front door, growling under her breath.

She confronts the little furball head on, finger wagging. "NO Fritz. STOP you little $^$#. Mommy, stop laughing." Mommy (me) tries to suppress smile. Kidlet drags our little furball back into the family room and props him up onto the  couch to meet the little beast eye to eye.

"Don't laugh Mommy. This is serious." She resumes her impassioned lecture to the disrespectful furry subject. Fritz looks off givng Kidlet the invisible treatment. Where is the Dog Whisperer when you need him most? Kidlet clearly thinks she is making headway. Fritz sits up in perfect posture as he waits patiently for her to finish her lecture on the subsequent consequences of his continued barking. Before she finished with a commanding, "OK - go now" he was already bolting back to the door.

"He is the most defiant dog I have ever seen!" she utters in disgust.

I smile to myself ... remembering a day many years ago, when that script played out pretty much word for word ... when Kidlet was about two, and we didn't have a dog.

Headstrong and defiant. Kids and dogs.