Old Mother Hubbard

Fourteen weeks ago I could have written a whole blog on our dog, more appropriately "my" dog, Bandit. The baby came and Bandit just kind of became like another piece of furniture or something. She's just kind of there, but she really doesn't seem to mind. One of my new years resolutions is to give Bandit more attention. Don't get me wrong, she still gets loved and petted on, but nothing like it used to be when her head claimed permanent residence in my lap and I would carry on conversations with her. But like I said, she really doesn't seem to mind the change. One thing struck us about Bandit when the baby came. The theory is this...(drumroll)...Bandit thinks she had a puppy. Hear me out now...When Joseph came home from the hospital, Bandit was very interested in his well-being. She would "check" on him all the time, which consisted of approaching his head, looking at him, taking one or two sniffs, and then walking away. She did this periodically and was making sure the person she entrusted to look after her puppy (me) was doing an okay job. When he cried, she would come get me and then look at me like "What are you going to do about this?" She would generally sleep in his room or right near him. I'll never forget the morning that Bandit acquired her new name. I was on the couch with Joseph after what I'm sure was a long night and Drew was heading out for work. Bandit was outside. (Keep in mind that we were likely both deliriously exhausted). Drew yelled out the door, "Hurry up, Mother Hubbard!" The seriousness with which he was calling her in made it that much more hilarious. The name has stuck and and Bandit is Mother Hubbard, at least part of the time, which, I might add, is better than "Tard" or "Tard Tard", which is what Drew used to call her most of the time. Oh, and wouldn't Mother Hubbard get so into diaper changing time? As soon as the new diaper and wipes would come out, she would bolt over, get as close as possible and watch (and sniff)intently. I'm not sure if this was a direct result of her Mother Hubbardness and she just wanted to make sure all was done appropriately, of if she was secretly excited by all the smells and was covering it up with her Mother Hubbardness. Nevertheless, I would not be suprised if Joseph's first words were, "Bandit, don't lick the baby." Now, back to the theory. Anyone who has gotten a new puppy during their lifetime (me, I've gotten five . . . Ginger, Fletcher, Sam, Duffy, Duncan aka Tinker) knows that a puppy is weaned from its mother at six to eight weeks old. The puppy goes on its way out into the wild, or to your house, and mama dog's job is over. Well, lo and behold, when Joseph was about seven or eight weeks old, Mother Hubbard abandoned her post and sent her puppy off into the wild. She went back to sleeping all day on the floor, oblivous to his cries, and unaware of his diaper changes (except for maybe a few guilty sniffs of a particularly dirty one). So, Mother Hubbard thinks she had a puppy, was probably wondering why I was taking care of her puppy, was concerned that I was rearing it correctly, and then, as nature would have it, determined her job was done. Any takers?