From the time Cody was little, I mean really little—6 weeks old—when he first came to us, I used to rock him singing, “Cody Cody Cowboy, Cody Cody Cowboy, Cody Cody Cowboy, I Love You!” It was the song I sang every time I rocked or cuddled him. In fact, even now, I often call him Cody Cowboy. So, when he chose this cowboy hat for himself, somehow it just seemed right. It also brought back sweet memories of him as a pudgy (if you can believe that!) baby bouncing on my lap, giggling as I sang to him. So, I sang it to him again a few times this week--minus the bouncing on my lap part--he probably wouldn't go for that. He looked at me a little funny, but that’s okay.
We couldn’t leave Cody, Wyoming, without a picture of Cody by the sign bearing his name. Funny how appropriate his name seems now, after having been here. The town of Cody is friendly, rugged, a little wild in a fun kind of way and very easy on the eyes--not unlike our handsome Cody.
From the time Cody was little, I mean really little—6 weeks old—when he first came to us, I used to rock him singing, “Cody Cody Cowboy, Cody Cody Cowboy, Cody Cody Cowboy, I Love You!” It was the song I sang every time I rocked or cuddled him. In fact, even now, I often call him Cody Cowboy. So, when he chose this cowboy hat for himself, somehow it just seemed right. It also brought back sweet memories of him as a pudgy (if you can believe that!) baby bouncing on my lap, giggling as I sang to him. So, I sang it to him again a few times this week--minus the bouncing on my lap part--he probably wouldn't go for that. He looked at me a little funny, but that’s okay. 
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