She climbs out of the baby carriage and barrels straight toward the dog, grunting, arms out. hands flexing. The dog watches in horror, and then, realizing what's happening, retreats up the stairs.
The kid can't climb the stairs with her little legs, and the dog won't come down (nose to the door, absolutely refusing to acknowledge whatever nonsense is going on behind her), so they remain at this impasse while I watch, delighted.
It's a couple seconds before I realize that her dad is looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to go in and end this farce, and I hurriedly fumble my keys in the door and shout, "Good night!" over my shoulder to the expectant child standing at the bottom of the stairs with her arms outstretched to pet my dog.