"Winnie's going to bark and wake up the baby. I just know it."
"Winnie's going to be jealous of the baby. We might have to get rid of her."
"Winnie's annoying. Really annoying. No, that had nothing to do with the baby. But she's so annoying."
I was so stressed out over Winnie and Margot mixing that I banished the poor dog to my parents' house for the first two weeks of the baby's life. For horror stories had been foretold.
A scary mixture, this
Then the dog returned home and, well, nothing happened. Winnie ignored Margot and Margot cried a lot. Neither of those things were related.
And then Margot dominated the blog to such an extent that you'd think, "Hell, why don't you just rename this thing? Margiferd in the Burbs?"
But Margot's here to tell you that that's nonsense. This thing is called Winiferd in the Burbs and you all need to bow down and worship the star of this nonsense.
Because a couple of weeks ago, Margot realized Winnie existed and concluded that Winnie must be the ultimate supreme goddess of the universe, or at least this house.
Margot loves Winnie.
Ian and I practically do handstands trying to coax smiles out of Margot, but a side-eye by Winnie mesmerizes her. The dog causes grins, giggles, or just a generally pleasant disposition so we're all about the doggy now. It's like 2012 up in here.
A previously neglected Winnie has suddenly found herself the center of attention.
A previously neglected Winnie has suddenly found herself the center of attention.
God help us all if my mom collects Winnie for the afternoon because Winnie is the only thing that can save us if a wailing Margot is having a there's-nothing-actually-wrong-with-me meltdown.
We ignored the dog for four months but now constantly shriek at her to come over and make eye-contact with the baby.
Winnie is still fairly indifferent to Margot and appears wary of Ian and me constantly prodding her towards the baby.
OMG. Future besties!!!!
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