My Furry Boy

No, I don’t mean the giant, despite his natural leg sweaters, and fur vest. I mean my real fur boy, Darwin. Darwin has a very interesting relationship with my other little boys. When we first brought Oee home from the hospital Darwin wouldn’t look at me for about a month. He would reluctantly follow commands I gave him but he refused to look me in the eye. He knew I had just completely ruined the life he was so accustomed to, being treated like our baby! (Apparently our dog is a misogynist and has no understanding of the birds and the bees, since according to him, I am solely responsible/to blame for our children.)

Darwin’s relationship with Oee evolved as Oee got older. The pinnacle of his torment was when Oee learned to crawl and Darwin could no longer just move away from the pint-sized maul-machine. Things slowly got better from that point and now they even seem to play together. When we brought Wossy home, Darwin already knew the drill and was resigned to his fate. There was no anger with me, just pity for himself. And boy can he ever look pitiful!

Regardless of Darwin’s frustration with ME for having brought children into our home, he has always been incredibly gentle with, and protective of, both the boys. Oee can climb all over Darwin, put whole hands in his mouth, and even ride him like a horse. (While pounding his chest and saying baby gorilla. I know, we have a strange kid with an impressive and weird imagination) We can no longer take Darwin to the park with Oee because he freaks out as soon as Oee is on any playground equipment and is desperate to “rescue” Owen from the slide or teeter totter or god-forbid another child that wants to play with him.

Oee mounting Darwin for a baby gorilla horsey ride and Darwin watching over Wossy as he sleeps.

Oee mounting Darwin for a baby gorilla horsey ride and Darwin watching over Wossy as he sleeps.

It isn’t that surprising, since Darwin has always been protective of us and he can even sound like a guard dog, when he feels like it. He is so protective that he even barks when people come to the door now. (Great job. The dog takes up barking when I have 2 little ones whose naps I desperately rely on. Awesome.) I noticed this last night, when I ran over to my sick sister’s house at midnight and returned home 20 minutes later. Darwin heard me on the porch steps and tried to wake up all three sleeping boys. But Darwin’s protective instinct seems a bit confused, since he stops barking immediately when whoever is outside gets into the house even if he has no idea who it is. So, monkey bars and Jehovah’s Witnesses beware, Darwin is ready for you, but anyone who makes it in to our house, you’ll probably be fine!