Our Innocent Boy

    Ivan consistently outsmarts us. We’ve come to expect that two educated, intelligent adult humans will be frequently bested by a little curly-tailed dog with sweet Bambi eyes and an insistent yodel. From time to time he lets us become complacent, as we humans tend to do when we foolishly allow ourselves believe we are not so much in control really—we aren’t completely delusional –  but are at least reasonably aware our authority is being cheerfully flouted. 

    Such is the case with his noon Prilosec. Ivan takes 1/2 a Prilosec pill 30 minutes before his noon meal. This is not a new development; he’s been doing this since shortly after his bowel surgery in 2009.

    I should say the plan is that Ivan will take this pill. Lately, he has decided he doesn’t feel like it. He licks off the peanut butter or carefully extracts it from cheese and spits it out. He accepts the ball of  his food with the pill inside, carefully eats the food and drops the perfectly clean pill onto the floor. However, if this happens when I’m serving lunch, I persist until he finally consumes Prilosec in something. A part of me wonders if he’s just decided he will keep getting more and better treats if he doesn’t eat the pill. It’s a game, and he readily plays along, outscoring me at every turn. 

     The pill giving maneuver has a high degree of difficulty because Ivan can have only a limited amount of protein, so we can’t simply stuff the pill in a chunk of chicken breast.

      Ivan is several moves ahead of Eric and me, so our babysitters are not prepared for his wiles.  That adorable face makes it difficult to focus on whether he really swallowed the pill. Who would think that sweet boy would fake them out. On days the babysitter comes to provide lunch and backyard time I often come home to discover the Prilosec tucked neatly under the rug. Ivan always looks astonished to find it there.  It seems his imaginary evil twin is somehow responsible. Of course, I believe him.