We have a new baby. She is very small. At first, her parents wouldn’t let me near her. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’m very big, at least compared to her. I happen to know big is relative. I’m really only medium-large. At Occidental College, where I was working the other day, giving therapy to college students, an Irish Wolfhound strolled in. He was dog-normous–three feet tall, weighing in at 160 pounds. He told us he was a champion racer. I’d like to race him even though I’m only about nineteen and a half inches tall, weighing in at 46 pounds. The difference between a wolf and a sheep is that wolves are sneaky and sheep are not. I can be sneaky too.
Back to our baby. Her parents, your children, are extra careful with her, the way brand new parents are. I feel sad when I can’t play with her, so I hope she grows bigger fast so I can sniff her and steal her treats when she isn’t looking. I told you how much I wanted to be close to the baby, so I barked when you shut me out of her house. I jumped up on her daddy when he came to visit. I got close enough to sniff her all over. She was delicious! That did not advance my cause. I put my front paws down and waited patiently until I could kiss her. The days stretched into weeks. I was on lockdown. I felt very sad.
But our patience paid off. You took the new baby for a walk and let me walk right next to her. Dog, did I love that! Everyone stared at us and smiled. I walked right next to her stroller. I did not pull on either side to sniff even though the boulevard trees were odoriferous. I watched the street carefully on all sides and at corners for anything unusual. I was such a good boy. I can learn how to behave if you help me learn. I will be an outstanding babysitter.
Oliver’s advice: Have faith in dogs. Teach them well with lots of encouragement. They will learn.