Two years of dog

Dear Montana,

I'm a few days late blogging about it, but I promise we didn't forget the actual event: this past Saturday was the two-year anniversary of the day we adopted you.


Last year when I wrote you a letter I had a lot to say about how you'd evolved: you'd gone from a timid, shaky, bony, classic rescue dog to a confident, healthy, active, happy, beloved pet. And this year? Well, you're still a happy beloved pet. There hasn't been a whole lot of evolution. And that's a good thing, because you're pretty close to perfect exactly the way you are.


Things that have changed for you this year have mostly had to do with the environment surrounding you. When I got pregnant you had to cut way back on your trips to the dog park, because I was too sick to take you, and even once the morning sickness had passed, the trips stayed a lot more sporadic than they had been. Now there's a baby and as a result you've been pushed lower on the totem pole. But I will say that I was mentally prepared to not be able to deal with you when I had a baby, but I haven't felt that way at all. Thank goodness, because I can't imagine the guilt if I stopped thinking you were wonderful and adorable.


Our neighbors also got a cat this year, and as a result I'm surprised our front window is still intact; that cat likes to walk in front of it and sometimes even sit on the sill, like he's taunting you, and you have thrown yourself into the window trying to get at the cat so many times that I'm surprised you haven't sustained brain damage by now. But I'm pretty sure if you and the cat ever actually got into the same room, the cat would end up being the one in charge. Because you just aren't an alpha dog, and I'm pretty sure that cat is an alpha cat.


I know you're still undecided about this whole baby thing at the moment, but I promise you, in a few short months you will be totally on board with his presence here. Because in a few short months the kid will start eating solid foods, and you know what I hear about babies? I hear they're messy when they eat, and I'm pretty sure you'll be reaping the benefits of those messes. So if I were you I'd start sucking up to him now so that down the line, he'll let you stand directly underneath him while he eats.


You still have your own spots and your own little routines. You like to lie in your bed in the living room, and you love your crate in our bedroom. Every night when we go to bed, you follow us up the stairs and go straight into your crate, where you lie and wait for me to give you your bedtime treat. Then you lie down on your side and go straight to sleep. You're still great in the mornings, too; your bladder must truly be made of steel, because you can sleep all morning and not need to go out. We thank you for that, and hope that Callum learns from your example sooner rather than later.


You love rugs and towels and blankets, and if we aren't paying attention you will manage to take over a tummy time blanket before we actually get the baby onto it. You think all blankets are for you, and even though it's annoying when you get another clean baby blanket dirty, you are so cute and blankets make you so happy that we can't be mad at you for it; we just let you stay on the blanket and go get another one for the baby. See, you aren't our last priority in everything. Right?


I would really love to get inside your head and know what you're thinking most of the time. I'd like to know how you see the world, the way you understand things. I'm curious if you wonder, for example, why we don't turn the heat down when it's boiling hot in the summer, or if you think the automatic windows in the back seat of the car are like magic. I know your brain is tiny, but I really want to know how it functions.


But most of all if I could get inside your head, I'd make sure you know that you are a crucial part of our family. You are sweet and loving and adorable, and we are so glad you're here. And for our end of the bargain, we promise not to let the baby torture you as he gets older. You will be his first lesson in the proper way to treat animals. Because you are a lovely and delicate dog, and you deserve to be treated accordingly.


Love,
Mom