Happy birthday, Gracie Lou!
You've had a hell of a year, Gracie. We went from a little family of three to a slightly bigger family of four. You're not so sure about this.
Your quiet home is now filled with shrieks of joy and squalls of frustration. Nobody is petting you, snuggling with you, or playing with you. It's awful, and if you didn't know better, you'd think this kid was going to stay here forever. And if that wasn't bad enough, he's started going after your toys, especially the Red Ball. THE Red Ball. Your most favorite possession in the whole entire world and that kid takes it right out of your mouth and tries to put it into his own.
But man, does that kid love you. He fusses and whines when you're not in the room, and nothing makes him light up like when he watches you play. He learned to crawl over the past two weeks while he was chasing after the Red Ball (and the look on your face was awesome. "Do you see this? What are you going to do about this?). He wants nothing more than to dig his little fingers into your fur and tug on your whiskers. You're so gentle and sweet with him, and just this morning you gave him the softest, sweetest kiss on his sticky little cheeks.
We were worried about all of this when I was pregnant. Some kids just don't like dogs. It was so incredibly important to me that he liked you and you liked him. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined he would be so obsessed with you, so delighted with every move you make. He's your biggest fan.
You've always been my baby, Gracie, my special girl who has gotten me through some pretty bad times. But now that Henry's here, I can see that he'll do anything to make you his. And I have a feeling that once the screaming dies down and he learns to throw a ball, you two will be inseperable. A year ago, I would have been jealous, but now I can't think of anything better. There's something so very special about a boy and his dog, especially when they are both mine.