When I was born, my parents owned a dog named Punky. I’ve seen pictures of Punky in the past, but I don’t think I have any photos of her at this point.
Punky had a short life in their household. My parents got her sometime after their honeymoon, then I came along nine months and ten days after they were married. Unfortunately, Punky did not get along with the baby (me). So Punky moved on to another home within a few weeks. I never heard the details of Punky’s next home.
But my parents later had a dog that did adapt to babies. Nick, my dad’s English Setter, was mostly an outdoor dog. My dad got him a couple of years before my sister was born. When she arrived, he was allowed inside to meet her. I can remember him standing on his hind legs to peer into the crib at this strange new creature.
Nick was a very patient dog. When my sister and brother were toddlers, he allowed them to plop on his back and yell “giddy-up, horsie!” Though once he had had enough of their fun, he would stand up slowly, then gently shake them off and onto the floor where he thought they belonged.
My husband and I, too, had a dog that adapted to children. Rickover, our Brittany Spaniel mix, came into our family about nine months before our son. (Kind of like adopting a baby, then getting pregnant, I guess—only our adopted household member was a canine.)
Rickover was another gentle dog, like Nick, but he definitely thought he should remain the alpha over our son for several years. The same was true when our daughter came along three years later. Rickover was never mean about it, but he shook them off when they tried to play horsie, much as Nick had done.
Still, Rickover taught our son to walk. Our son moved through the house with one hand on the wall or pushed a wagon ahead of him as a walker until he was fifteen months old. But one evening, when he got so excited seeing the dog across the room, he let go of everything and toddled over to Rickover.
It wasn’t until our five-year-old son took on responsibility for dumping the dog food in Rickover’s bowl that Rickover decided this small human had any value. By the time Rickover died when our son was thirteen, our son lamented that “Rickover was my best friend.” After all, Rickover would listen to him when no one else would.
My daughter and her husband own two dogs, and I worried how they would adapt when they added a baby to the family. The two dogs took quite some time to learn to deal with each other, but they now view themselves as members of the same pack—unless there is a treat to fight over.
One of the dogs is pretty chill, and after a few sniffs, Bergen accepted the baby. So long as he could still find a quiet place to sleep, Bergen was all right with my granddaughter.
Unlike Bergen, my daughter’s dog Langley is more high-strung. She likes most people “once they can stand up”, as my daughter put it. Which didn’t determine how she would treat a non-vertical baby. Langley doesn’t like some other dogs, and we don’t know why she chooses the dogs she goes after. So I worried.
Surprisingly, Langley has been super-protective of the baby. When strangers come to visit, Langley is vigilant to be sure they are treating the baby appropriately. Until she gets a treat, then she relaxes.
So far, Bergen and Langley seem unlikely to face Punky’s fate. I wonder if my granddaughter will play horsie with them, as past generations in the family did with Nick and Rickover.
How have pets adapted to babies in your family?
