Miley and Me

I knew I was a real "mom" the day instinct drove me to do the unthinkable. In an airborne lunge worthy of Barry Bonds, I flew across a crowded party room toward my urping first-born infant son, managing to catch his "lunch" in my hands to save my friend Wendy's carpet from a fate worse than death. And just like that, I knew I had turned a new corner. I was a real mom.


Five weeks ago my family turned another corner in our lives. We brought home a 9 pound puppy we named Miley after my husband's favorite dog from his childhood. Like the first time I learned I would be a mother the days of excitement began to turn to fear as the moment of "arrival" drew near. What if a dog wasn't a good idea? What if I couldn't train her? What if we didn't bond? What on earth had I done in pushing my husband toward getting a dog when our family plate was already full with three children, two cats, one gerbil and several stubbornly-surviving fish?

The morning we went to pick her up I was nervous. Apparently, so was Miley. After her endurance 4-hour car ride to meet us, she promptly lost her "lunch" as her breeder lifted her out of the car to greet us.

And somehow that made everything better. Seeing the fear in her small, brown eyes and sensing her tremble in my arms as I took her from the only world she'd known in her short life made me long to reassure her everything was going to be alright.

Several weeks later on a walk with Miley in the snow I reached into my pocket for some keys. I suddenly realized that in amongst the crumbs of puppy treats and poopy-scoop bags and a rawhide that our lives have changed so fast. We now belong to the doggie club--those people who exchange notes on their pet's behavior and who stop you every few feet on a walk to ask you what kind of dog you have. Miley is really part of our family, now and I guess I am a real doggie "mom".