Louie.

People told me having a child would make me realize just how un-childlike my dogs really are. Because you know how people like me--people who love their dogs just a little too much--are, who say things like "my dogs are my children" or who search Ebay for a "I'm the big brother" T-shirt for a six-pound poodle.

When I went to the hospital to have Adelyn, I didn't know I was coming back with a baby. I thought I was just going to the doctor and that we'd be home in an hour, back to dote on Louie and Sampson with our usual focus. Instead, my dad had to come home and rescue them ten hours later. Louie then spent the next four days at my parents' house, playing with his uncles Charley and Elmo (my parents' dogs). Yes, I really am one of those people.

Jason's parents kept Sampson, his chihuahua, and brought him over two days after we got back. I wasn't worried about Sampson. Even though he can be incredibly needy, he hasn't spent his life being babied quite like Louie has. He's much more content on his own, shivering under a blanket. (Chihuahuas never stop shivering.) He came into our apartment, walked over to Adelyn, who was lying in Jason's lap, sniffed her foot, and carried on with his life. Every now and then when Adelyn's crying especially hard I'll catch Sampson giving me a "are you gonna do something about that?" look, but for the most part he's unperturbed.

Now Louie. Louie, unlike Sampson, sleeps with me like a teddy bear at night. He's accustomed to being loved on constantly, and he knows when the attention isn't up to par.

My parents brought him over to meet Adelyn when my sister was in town--for the first time on a visit not to get her Louie-fix. We're a whole family of those people, people who take off work and fly in because they miss their family's dogs.

And Louie ran into the apartment in a frenzy. He ran right up to Adelyn, asleep in her bouncer on the floor, and jumped on in with her, frantically kissing her six-day old face. I had to scold him for his tenacity, the first in what would become many scoldings for getting too excited around Adelyn. And then I spent the next hour trying to comfort him. Every time she moved, even just a finger, Louie pounced in her direction. Not for any reason other than curiosity and interest, thank God, but each time he jumped up to sniff her, the bouncer would start bobbling like crazy. At this point I was so tired and overwhelmed that I just didn't have it in me to take care of two needy babies. Louie had to go back home with my parents.

The first few nights we had him home for good, he sat at the edge of our bed, staring at her asleep in her bassinet. I'd have to pick him up and physically hold him down near my pillow for him to fall asleep. He couldn't get over his fascination, even for long enough to take a nap.

Breastfeeding her was the biggest challenge with him. Louie would always sit on the other couch, just staring at us, a look on his face I can only describe as utter disappointment. He spent the next week or two with that look on his face. His poor little dog-life had completely changed over night, and there was nothing we really could've done to prepare him for it.

It's gotten a little better now, I think. Louie even has his protective moments, where a new person will reach toward Adelyn and I can see his body tense up, at the ready if they dared try anything fishy. But for the most part he's adjusted. He's back sleeping on my pillow, and he only glances in Adelyn's direction if she starts crying. Or if she grunts really loud.

As much as I love Louie, things have changed. There was nothing I could do about that. He was my first baby, the first creature I was ever responsible for. And I think he knows that this new being in our house is just different. He knows--he knew the second he walked into our post-Adelyn apartment--that she comes first.