Dadas are the new mamas

Today I was walking Ginga in a park around his vacation home. I was unofficially trying to teach him how to walk nicely behind me to watch where I was going. Otherwise he'll just run on ahead and ignore me. Of course I had some food to help him learn a little faster, so to speak. The new training goal is to have no tension on the leash and have him listen all the time without pulling. I mostly managed, except when he was close to some ducks and stopped listening for a few seconds. As I was walking, I saw a man with two children. One was walking while the other one was being pushed in a pram, or whatever they call those things with four wheels, seatbelt and sunshade for little babies. Ginga had been searching for a grassy spot for his um... substantial waste and he found this approximately two metres away from the kids. The father smiled at me as Ginga set about his toilet with gusto and the smiley yet intense face that only he can manage. I smiled back ruefully and picked up Ginga's offering to the Earth Gods as the park has an adage, 'pet waste spreads disease.' After doing the complete round of the park where Ginga was again very well behaved and ignored little children and babies when told, I came up on the trio again, this time parked about 2 metres from me on the grass on the side of the path. As I passed them the Dad grinned ruefully at me. Yes, in his hands was a fresh diaper and on the ground was a soiled one. I grinned back at our shared experience and continued to walk with Ginga.

As I walked away, I thought about how unlikely the scene would have been just 30 years ago, where we men would have let our women handle the kids and their nappy changes outside. Progress is good.