Didi, the old mutt, lies on the kitchen floor. Absently I stroke her belly with my foot.
19-month-old CJ runs over and, imitating me, starts KICKING Didi in the belly.
“No no,” I crouch and guide her hand. “Be gentle. Pet.”
CJ strokes Didi’s belly. “Didi pet.”
She reaches up and strokes my arm. “Dada pet.”