When my son was just over two years old, he met his very first kitty! (I’m SO glad I had a camera with me!) He just kept saying “dee-ti,” and something approximating “soft!” And he was so gentle with it, its slightly panicked expression notwithstanding! LOL!
(You might enjoy this, Meow, a sound he started making after this wonderful little encounter. Or this, O Canada, recorded surreptitiously when he was about eight years old. He’s gonna kill me when he discovers I’ve posted this! LOL!)
During some of the darkest hours of my illness I would lay there, resting, profoundly exhausted. Suddenly, I would hear his little voice, and I’d remember all over again just why I had to keep fighting to regain my health, somehow, some way.
You should see him now, several inches taller than me, and a lovely young man! I’m so proud of him, and so glad to have been here to watch him growing up: It’s SO worth NOT eating sandwiches and cheese and corn on the cob…