The countdown has started. We have less than FIVE weeks to go! One thought has kept coming to mind - what in the world do I know about being a dad?!? Well, as I was defrosting Sophie's paws tonight after she was done writing her name in the snow, it dawned on me that she is ten pounds of furry baby practice... and school has been in session since they day we got her.
The first, and potentially most frustrating, parenting lesson Sophie has taught me is this... DO NOT let the baby sleep in the bed with you. This lovely practice Meggan started has continued on as I have joined the fray. All the "experts" say to kick her out before the baby comes. Frankly, if anyone is getting kicked out, it's me. Sophie not only barks all night if she is not allowed in the room, she also won't sleep until both Meggan and I are in bed with her. Once all parties are accounted for, she makes her executive decision as to whether she will sleep ON the covers rendering you unable to move them or under the covers (see article in other link to discover the immense risks associated with being under a pregnant woman's blankets) snuggled up against you like a teddy bear holding a heat lamp. So, thanks to Meggan's love of all things tiny and needy looking, we are prisoners to a space hogging, furnace-like, paperweight of a bed partner.
The second lesson I learned was quite a bit more of a challenge. That lesson is that my stomach is tougher than I give it credit for. All puppy books will tell you dogs are den animals and as such, they will not "go" where they eat and sleep. Sophie, being the competitor she is, took this as a challenge to her doghood. So, with vim and vigor, she proceeded to prove this theory wrong each day for me as I came home to see her at lunch. There, during my one hour of reprieve from the workday, I was greeted daily by Sophie who had freshly completed her best Riverdance impression in her own poo. I'm not sure if she just didn't notice, if she thought it was good for her pores, or if she was just giving me payback for keeping her in puppy prison all day. Either way, I cleaned her up over and over and over again without losing my lunch - lesson learned.
The last and single most important translatable lesson Sophie has taught me is that all small creatures who live near the ground will eat absolutely anything their lucky little mouths stumble upon. I have seen Soph fly off the couch and attack a fallen Dorito like nobody's business. She eats fur tumbleweeds like they are cotton candy. I have to literally set up a blockade to keep her from going back to her pre-rehab days as a certified Kitty poopsicle addict. She has even been known to eat wood, which is a guaranteed P.I.N. (Poo In the Nubby) situation. Babies explore with their mouths as well. So, I will have to be even more diligent when it comes to protecting her from all the dangers that roam the hardwoods. Luckily, Sophie will do the best job she can to make sure she eats everything before Amelia even has a remote chance to get to it.
So, am I crazy enough to think having a dog is truly the same as having a baby? No. However, I do think some of the responsibilities and obligations are the same. Both love you unconditionally, both need you for everything, and both require a little love, a lot of patience, and a hell of a sense of humor.
No comments:
Post a Comment