How My Relationship With My Dog Changed After My Son Was Born

I’ve been a bit stumped lately about what to write about. What is important to me? What can I say? It isn’t until I call over my pup and we have a cuddle that it hits me.

I’ve written about my kid. I’ve written about my husband. I’ve written about myself. Now I am going to write about my dog. Yes, you heard me correctly.

My dog. My fist born. My sidekick.

I know what some of you are thinking. You’re thinking how silly.

So, go ahead. Laugh if you will. Shrug you shoulders. Crinkle your face. Wave your hand at me. It’s all good. Because I don’t care. Because I can handle the jokes. I can handle people thinking I’m a weirdo because I call my dog my first-born.

But you see, I know I’m not the only one who feels this way about a pet. I know that the other half of you are nodding their heads in agreement with me. I know many of you out there consider your pets as family members. And that is what my pet is to us, a family member.

So, allow me to introduce you to my girl, Starbuck.

To clear things up quickly, no, she is not named after the coffee shop. She is named after a character in Battlestar Gallactica. (My husband loves his Sci-Fi!)

Starbuck is a tiny four-pound Yorki-Poo who has been my leading lady for ten years now. She’s an amazing pet. She’s sweet and cuddly and loves attention. She also has an attitude problem, doesn’t like puppies, and doesn’t care for children.

Startbuck and I had an instant connection. I found comfort in her, and I loved her the moment I saw her.

We were inseparable, that is, until my son came along. Then things changed. People warned me of this change but I shrugged them off. I thought, there was not way things were going to change between us. Her and I were tight; best buds. I also didn’t understand how I could love anything more than I loved her. However, I was proven wrong right from the start.

When I brought my son home from the hospital, Starbuck ignored me. Not just for that day, but for an entire week. My heart broke. I needed her attention but she wouldn’t give it to me. She was mad at me. I betrayed her. I knew right then that our relationship was going to change. That we wouldn’t be attached at the hip anymore.

We used to bring her out with us all the time but now that she’s older, it stresses her out being around big groups. Kids stress her out as well and most of our friends have smaller kids. Unfortunately, we need leave her behind when we go out and I end up feeling guilty.

We used to spend a lot of time together. Now, after a day of work and then tending to my child’s needs, I forget to give her the attention she longs for all day. Again, the guilt is present. I just have nothing left to give. My husband picks up the slack and puts in extra time with her, but it’s not the same. I want my time.

My camera used to be full of photos of her, but now it’s mostly my son. I forget to include her. I forget to take photos of her. It may sound silly, but sometimes I feel like I’m failing her.

I tell her I’m sorry for changing her world. I know she doesn’t understand me but I hope she can tell that I still love her with all my heart. She’s my best friend and she’s a huge part of this family.

I love you, puppy. Forever.



Karen Szabo is the mother of a toddler and is certain that 1 is the magical number for her and her husband. After years of searching, she’s found her own identity through writing. What free time she may have is dedicated to jotting ideas down, creating articles, and working on her blog “The Antsy Butterfly.” She is a contributor for The Mighty and has written for Sunshine Spoils Milk.