Puppy-Baby Love

Some of the most interesting reactions to the baby aren't from the humans in our lives, but rather the animals. All three of the dogs that live in or frequent my house have their own unique approaches to the impending bundle of joy.

Molly, the miniature pinscher-chihuahua cross, is a mother herself. In her previous home, she was bred incessantly until her escape.  I ask her for mothering advice from time to time, but she remains pretty closed about her pregnancies. The other evening, Molly, who could moonlight as a heating pad, was sitting on my lap, nestled against my bump. After a few minutes, the baby started kicking Molly. She was completely unphased and relaxed as the baby continued his "attack".

Zoe, my "niece" chihuahua, had a completely different reaction to the baby's activity. While the baby didn't outright kick Zoe, every time he moved, Zoe would shake violently. Baby moves, Zoe sh-sh-sh-shakes. Baby moves, Zoe sh-a-a-a-akes. Eventually, finding our cuddling intolerable, Zoe jumped down and sat by herself on the loveseat. That night, however, Zoe had to share my bed and I woke up around five in the morning to her and the baby playing footsie through my abdominal cavity. I can't decide what hurts more: the foot of a 23 week-old fetus or a five year-old chihuahua. Jerks.

Brisco, the longest-standing member of the trio, and I have always had a love-hate relationship. I love him; he hates me. Whenever I would hold or kiss him, he would growl, show his teeth and wiggle to free himself from my grasp. However, he seems to be softening in his old age, allowing me to tug his ears, open his mouth and gently pull his tail in an attempt to acclimatize him to the potential "loving" he might receive from our curious baby. Brisco, however, may be jealous when my mom decides to take every conceivable opportunity to hold her grandbaby and not pet her beloved "Brizzy".

When my mom was expecting me, my aunt's boyfriend owned a pitbull named Tiger. Apparently Tiger would rub his face on my mom's belly whenever he'd see her. After I was born, Tiger recognized me, nuzzling his face into me as I lounged in my car seat. Pitbull. One week-old baby. Trapped in a carseat. Nice.