The Best Part of Being a Kid or a Dog

My first baby was a five-pound ball of reddish-gold fur and tough-as-nails attitude. He liked to chew on his teddy bear (and occasionally do other things to it, but we don’t need to go there) and attack bare feet with sharp little teeth. I distinctly remember bursting into tears one day upon having the epiphany that my dog Jack was a lemon. He was aggressive, stubborn, uncontrollable, and just plain mean. I think Steven laughed at me. “Have you ever met a vicious golden retriever?” he asked. “He’ll outgrow it.”

And, well, he did. He’s now a buck six, give or take, still stubborn as all get-out, prone to seizures and skin inflammation, terrified of the vacuum cleaner, and pretty much the most harmlessly endearing beast this side of Eeyore. So he’s still kind of a lemon, but we love him.

Then we added his sister to our family. Charlotte, her name was going to be (but it quickly proved too dainty for her, with her odd mix of rough-and-tumble playfulness and tail-thumping joy). Charlie she became. Chuck, more often than not. She’s a pleaser, a sweet and loving and submissive little thing with a penchant for unattended socks and ... Steven. (He hung the moon and maybe set the Earth turning, her worshipful brown eyes say whenever they land on him.)

And then one day we brought Alex home.

I set the carrier on the floor and let Jack and Charlie examine our new addition. There was prolonged sniffing and tentative toe-tasting, there was a moment of utter confusion when the new human made a noise, and then? Then they were over it. Jack turned to me for a treat, Charlie retreated to the corner with the best vantage point from which to gaze longingly at Steven, and they had accepted their new reality.

Kids do it too. Alex was sad for all of a day when we moved from the only house he’d ever known. There were a few requests to go and visit the old house, there was one bed-wetting incident that I’m pretty sure was related to the change, and then ... He was over it. New reality, accepted.

Wouldn’t it be nice if major life changes were as easy to swallow when you’re both a grown-up and a human? Kids and dogs have the secret, I think. They take stock of the important things, and, once they’ve ascertained that those are in order, the rest falls into place. Jack: New baby, smells good, where’s my treat? Charlie: New baby, tasty toes, where’s my man? Alex: New house, Mommy and Daddy and Jack and Charlie are here, Spider-Man sheets are on the bed, I’m going to play in my new backyard.

Love. Once it's inventoried, all is right with the world.

When we bring the next baby home, I plan to put him down on the floor in his carrier, let Jack and Charlie sniff and tentatively taste to their hearts’ content, and then give them treats. I plan to pull Alex into my lap, cover him with kisses and attention, and hope that he’s still young enough to get the message.