When we bring our daughter home from the hospital, Meeks will be waiting.  Ideally, he’ll have a fresh haircut, bath, and pink bow around his neck.  (But then, ideally I’ll also be freshly shaved, showered, waxed, and manicured…does it ever work out this way?)

One thing I’ve looked forward to it introducing the two.  I want to be sensitive to Meeks and make sure he understands he is just as loved and important as always – in fact, I am going to rely on his help over the next few years, to entertain and look out for our baby.

Lots of people talk about their pets sensing their pregnancies.  If he does, Meeks shows zero signs.  He doesn’t acknowledge my belly.  On one hand, this has surprised me because he’s always been in tune to my emotions.  On the other hand, he has a knack for being conveniently unaware of things like a mouse in the house, birds in the chimney, or an alien in my belly.

Meeks and children is a different story.  He’s good with my niece and nephew.  He takes an interest in them, he hangs out where they are, he plays tug of war and chase and keep away with them, he tolerates clumsy pats and yanks on his collar even though he definitely wants to escape at times.  So I predict that he and the baby will become good friends over the next few years.  I have always had total faith in him in this regard, from the time I brought him home as a puppy seven years ago, with no thoughts of getting pregnant any time soon, but knowing that one day I would and that Meeks would be around for it.

When Chris isn’t around I have conversations with Meeks and the baby, sort of like a pre-introduction.  I whisper, “Meeks…there’s a baby in here. Can you believe this? You’re going to have a tiny baby sister.”  He just looks at me, then snatches up his bone like he wants to play. He doesn’t seem to get it.

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