Lilly is our dog. I didn't always refer to her as our dog. She was the baby in the house. Then, our daughter came along.
I was a little worried about how Lilly would handle a new member of the house, but Lilly understood her role better than I did. From Gracie's arrival in our family, Lilly appointed herself Gracie's protector, caregiver, and all around snuggle buddy.
She let her drag her from room to room, plop her in the bathtub for bathtime, nearly drown her while trying to "take her for a swim" on her leash, and pull her lips in opposite directions so she could laugh and say, "teeffff! funny teefffff."
The first morning after Gracie arrived, Lilly was found asleep beside her crib and from that day forward they were inseparable.
Lilly is getting old now. She has a heart condition and is going on 11.
But, she still keeps up with her Gracie. And every night, she pushes Gracie's door open and climbs up into her bed and rests her head on her tummy while she sleeps.
And when Gracie wants to dress her in doll clothes or make her prance the Brooklyn streets in butterfly wings Lilly does it, because Lilly loves her person, or more like, her baby.
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