My first baby

Sometimes she feels pushed to the side, like she's in the way; sometimes she feel sad, because she's not number one anymore; sometimes she feels jealous, because Nick gets all the toys, treats, and special foods. But in my heart, she's still my first baby. I lay with her and stroke her fur while I tell her the story I've told her a million times before, about how David and I picked her out at the shelter. Her whole litter was there, under quarantine because the staff thought she'd been exposed to Parvo. We asked to see them anyway and said we'd wait for the Parvo results to come in while we played with the puppies. There were 7 of these German Shepherd mixed babies - 3 pure-white, 2 black, and 2 something-in-between. We decided on a white one, and then had to choose between Bella and the others. I chose Bella because she was sleeping on her back and with her little pink potbelly exposed, she looked like a piglet (didn't she?).


I had no idea then, when she weighed just 6 pounds, that she would end up being the 90-pound girl she is today. She has no idea how big she is; she still wants to lay on my lap and sleep in the bed next to us.



But Bella is my baby - always will be. She taught me how to be a mom, really. And for her love, her loyalty, her fierce devotion, and her patience during this first year of Nick's life - her willingness to (albeit reluctantly) take second place at times - she has my heart.