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March 28, 2008
The Other Baby
It was a beautiful day in Chestertown, warm and bright, the air clear and smelling of springtime. We made our way out to the back porch to take in some sunshine. Here's today's family portrait.
But something is missing from this picture of domestic bliss.
That's right, Iggy the formerly jovial family dog, has grown abject and detached. We tried to warn her in the weeks leading up to Alden's arrival that things were about to change, but she seemed unwilling to heed the warning signs.
We've been trying without much luck to introduce the two. Iggy seems to regard Alden as if her new sister were a head of cabbage, not even worth an honest sniff. Today as we had lunch, we gave them the opportunity to get acquainted, but Iggy's indifference could not have been more palpable.
Perhaps her scorn is merely meant to mask a searing inner sadness. She has spent the week consigned to the porch, a rude demotion for a dog used to lying between us on the couch. By the end of the meal, a bit of progress had been made.
Later, we made more concerted attempts to broker a truce. Ever gracious, Iggy offered the olive branch.
Alden did not reciprocate.
I tried to console my demoralized dog.
While Alden said something along the lines of, "Talk to the Hand, Iggy" though she said it in Finnish, which is, apparently, the language that all newborns know how to speak for the first week of life, at the end of which they forget it entirely. Except for Finnish babies, who begin their lives speaking Swahili.
In an attempt to lift Iggy's crushed spirits, I took her for a run over the Chester River Bridge into Kingstown. She worked off some of her misery, I think, and I worked up a good sweat. Which was fascinating to Alden, who had never seen anything quite so magnificent.
When I kissed, her was speechless.
Even her Finnish failed her.
The balance of power between the two sisters is still grossly tipped toward the 6 pound, 14 ounce one. As I type, Iggy is curled in a misshapen, stinky, undersized dog bed on the cold, poorly lit back porch, while Alden lies comfortably between Robbi and me in the cozy second story bedroom.
It hardly seems fair. Such is the life of a dog. Such is the life of a baby.
Posted by bogenamp at March 28, 2008 06:11 PM