Have you ever carried around poop in your purse?

I've been the mother to a french bulldog for five years now. She is my first baby! And yes, today there is poop in my purse (it's just a stool sample for the vet, not an intentional pooping). But I think the fact that I'm willing to carry around poop in my purse all day pretty much says that I'm a good mom already.

I tell all my friends to get a dog before you have kids. It's a segue to children. Having a pet has taught my husband and I plenty about responsibility, family, and love.

I remember the day we picked up our 8 week old puppy, I cried at the sight of her. It was true love! The first week was a blur of sleepless nights with a yelping puppy who didn't want to sleep alone in her bed outside our room. We fought pee stains on the carpet. And we argued about who’s turn it was to carry her from our apartment on the 10^th floor to the grass outside at 6am on Saturday.

When I went out of town, my husband broke the rule and let her sleep under the covers with him, only to wake up in the middle of the night when she relieved herself on his leg.

I’ll never forget the 4am phone call on our first night in Hawaii from our dog sitter to tell us the elevator had closed on our darling 3 month old and it broke her leg! I cried for hours. I was such a bad mom! Needless to say, I cried even more when we received the bill from our vet. My husband and I questioned ourselves, should we have gotten a dog and can we afford to take care of her? Are we doing the right thing?

Then came Saturday afternoons spent at smush-nose dog playgroup. She was the fat kid. There was no doubt about it. She was roly and poly and tailed the other dogs in the chase.

My husband and I still accuse each other of loving the dog more than our spouse. Sofa or bed, she is always in the middle of us. If only I could get the scratches and rubs that she receives in the crook of my husband's arm. 

The summers spent at the beach in Connecticut are among her favorite times. She loves to run on the beach, free to sniff and pee on whatever pleased her. Over the last four seasons, she has slowly crept from sand to water's edge and finally to wading up to her neck in low tide. But don’t ask her to try to swim any deeper, that still makes her quiver.

And when mom and dad leave with our suitcases without her, she howls. Really? Who knew a little bulldog could make that pitiful sound?

The point is, she is my baby, my first baby. And although I can’t imagine loving anything more than her, I feel my heart already making room for the new love in my life.