My First Baby

I never understood those couples who called their dogs their "babies." I get loving your pets but really, treating them like your children? That seemed a little inane to me. 

And then came Henry.

For our three year anniversary (September 15, 2010) I only asked for one gift. I wanted a dog. My family got our first dog when I was 10 and he died when I was 21. It was the most devastating loss. (No, I've never lost a close family member but I did have 5 friends die within 2 years so I have experienced grief but there's something different about losing an animal, I digress.) We got another dog within a few months that is now my parents fourth child and they spoil him rotten. He's also 100lbs but thinks he's a lap dog.

Now that Thomas and I were on our own, I really wanted a dog that was ours. Not our parents' dogs, but one we cared for together. Thomas agreed that we could look for a dog but was very clear that it would be my dog, not ours. He wanted no part of it. He would go with me, look, pay and then it was my responsibility and my animal - not his. I agreed to this, hoping secretly that he would change his mind and come around to loving the dog like I knew I would. I searched and searched online for dogs at local shelters. I was very adamant about rescuing a dog and not supporting pet stores (and in the long run, puppy mills). After about 2 weeks of searching, I found the perfect Jack Russell Terrier at a shelter about 20 minutes from our house. He was adorable, brown and white, about 10 pounds, and already neutered so that would cut down costs. Thomas agreed to go with me to look at this pup on a warm Sunday in August. We drove there and I told him all the names I was thinking of, the best of which I thought was "Ellis." The pound had named this terrier already but of course we would rename him.

We walked past the kennels of barking and whimpering dogs, all staring at us, pleading to take them home. This part of the process always kills me. I cannot stand seeing dogs caged and sad and alone and hot - it absolutely breaks my soul. We got to the kennel where our precious terrier was and he seemed happy to see us! He barked and jumped, and barked and jumped, and barked, and barked, and barked. I swear he was doing flips and jumping off the walls. He was certainly cute but I looked at Thomas and the look he gave me back was one of trepidation. It would not be fair to keep such a hyper dog in our small apartment. I knew that. We needed a dog that was a little more mellow and laid back. The kennel to the left of my first choice was this small, blond, sad looking puppy. He wasn't barking, wasn't crying, just looking around like he truly hated where he was. We had no idea what breed he was or how old, he hadn't even been named by the pound. Thomas said, "let's see how this one is out of the cage." I could see that this puppy looking business was kind of growing on him. Thomas went to ask the workers if we could take this little guy out and I stood by the kennel to talk to him. He stood up to the gate when I went to pet him and was very affectionate.

The attendant came over and took the little yellow puppy to the fenced area where we could play with him. We went in and he ran straight to Thomas. I got on the floor and tried to play with him but he really took to Thomas. He let me pet him a little but he clearly had his favorite. This little dog never barked, never whined, didn't jump, he was truly a calm and loving little guy. As Thomas pet him, I knew this was the one for us. We talked it over in our little fenced in space and decided this was our adorable pound puppy. Unfortunately because he wasn't neutered yet he had to stay there and get fixed before we could take him home (in CA all animals adopted through shelters must be fixed before they are taken home, a law I completely support). This broke my heart, I hated leaving him behind.

On our way home we texted both sets of parents announcing our new arrival. The pound would call us when he was ready to be picked up. We were on our way to becoming pet parents! We named him Henry (Thomas suggested it and I agreed, he was totally a Henry) and he was our baby.

The first picture of our baby.

Over the next few months, he really truly became our baby. He was our constant companion and we took him everywhere. He slept in our bed, usually right between us or between our legs. He still is our baby, except now we're going to have a human baby. 

Yesterday Thomas took a "Daddy Boot Camp" and they advised them to start paying less attention to pets so that they don't blame the baby when it arrives. It makes sense, we will have less time to be with Henry and we don't want him to see June as competition. However, it still makes me cry when I think about it. He was our first, our trial run.

But starting soon we will make him sleep downstairs rather than with us. He'll be fine, I know but I love our morning puppy cuddles, the routine Thomas and I have for letting him out and the way he lays under the covers with us. 

My little baby boy is growing up. 

And I'm officially one of those weird dog moms.

How could you not love this snaggle tooth face?