The kiss

One of my most persuasive and telling arguments in the run-up to buying Waffle was this: Children growing up around a dog will have a much sturdier immune system than those with no canine contact.

Truth be told, not everyone in the household was sold on having a dog and I had therefore resorted to pseudo-scientific studies to try and bolster my reasoning.

In the end, whilst Covid ultimately sealed our doggy fate for years to come (we were going to be at home for an extended period so why not have a dog), my assertion regarding the studier immune system for the little humans wasn’t entirely erroneous.

Studies in paediatric health have regularly concluded that children who lived with pets (but especially dogs) during their first year of life actually had a better immune system than those who did not.

Researchers now believe that exposure to dogs may have positively boosted the maturation of their immune system during infancy.

Of course, I refrained from sharing the ‘infancy’ element of the study, seeing as how both our little humans are well on their way to becoming little adults.

Nevertheless, we now live in the mid-Waffle period and whether our immunity has been bolstered by the presence of the Hairy Fool remains to be seen.

Certainly, disposable income hasn’t been the same but that’s another matter (and one I can’t really raise or complain about seeing as how the
Hairy Fool was my idea in the first place).

Admittedly, I don’t know why research has made this connection between dogs and a child’s enhanced immune system (I could have dug more info out online but I couldn’t be bothered).

The reason I mention this exposure to hounds is because Waffle licked me on the face last week for the very first
time.

“Why doesn’t Waffle lick you on the face?”

This has been a regular question over the years, seeing as how Waffle
always tries to lick the little humans’ faces but had refrained from sullying my own. However, it was a question to which I always assumed I had the answer.

“Waffle knows better than to lick me in the face or he’ll get scattered into the corner,” I’d say with a smile, my own face mere inches away from the Hound’s nose.

Last week though, Waffle tried to fling the lips. Actually, he didn’t try but rather succeeded, his kiss landing full on my mouth.

As I spluttered and spat in the aftermath of the kiss, the littlest little human suggested, “I think Waffle got the raw deal there – ha ha!”

There being no vodka in the house – or any spirits for that matter – I had to make do with rinsing out my gob with mouth wash and then washing my
face.

“You should have washed your mouth out before the kiss,” Anna added, when I returned to the kitchen.

“That’s enough of that, thank you very much,” I told her, drawing the Hound an icy stare and then quitting the kitchen in a huff.

Whilst I’m not OCD about having a dog in the house (Waffle doesn’t shed, which is a blessing and he mostly does what he’s told with regard to not clambering onto furniture), I draw the line at licks on the face.

I mean, at the risk of sounding a tad fastidious, I don’t know where that mouth has been.

On second thoughts, I do know where that mouth has been and I don’t want my face to become even a proxy destination by association.

He licks his nether regions. Hs nose hovers over other dogs’ poo inhaling all the fumes. He eats chicken guano in the back garden. I’ve even seen him licking dead birds. Who knows what microscopic monsters might be lurking behind those hairy lips – I shudder to think.

Whilst Waffle’s body might be equipped to handle his debauched lifestyle, mine most likely is not; I can’t even handle a six pack any more without a day off work.

“Dad and Waffle in a tree, K.I.S.S.I.N.G,” Anna sang from the kitchen.

I don’t know about a studier immune system but Waffle has definitely helped out on the cheekiness front.