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Lucy

happygirl

How my dog has helped prepare me for having a baby:

She demands our constant attention.

She wakes us up at the crack of dawn.

We can rarely go out as a couple during the week (one of us needs to be home with her).

I already know how to coordinate multiple sitters.

I love her even after she chews and destroys my $400 prescription glasses...twice.

After a year and a half, I still get so excited when she poops and pees in the right places.

I can't look at her adorable face without smiling or cuddling her up in my arms.

My husband and I are still together (and stronger) after all the fights we had when I felt I was doing all the work. (I still do more of the work, but it's more balanced now.)

My heart aches when I'm away from her for too long.

I don't care that our couch isn't quite as cream as it once was (note to self: NEVER get another cream-colored piece of furniture).

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Mundane things, like the way she chews her food or stands up on her hind legs, make me flush with love.

I know how it feels to be the bad guy when I discipline her.

She and I have developed our own way of communicating with each other, and I (usually) know what she wants even though she can't talk.

I know how to put eardrops in a wiggling, squiggling little creature.

I can't stop taking pictures of her (and I have several in my wallet, should anyone ask to see).

I'd rather be home with her (and my husband) than just about anywhere.

I know how wonderful it feels to be needed, like the times she's scared or hurt and she runs straight to me and curls up in my lap for sympathy.

Watching my husband play and wrestle with her is one of my favorite activities.

Twice I've caught her little poops in my bare hand to prevent her from defiling someone else's carpet — and I didn't even mind.

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