This is Bruno. 

We adopted him from an animal rescue about 4  years ago. When we adopted him he was almost 3 years old. We learned that his previous owners surrendered him to the rescue because they had a small child already and were expecting their 2nd.  Since they first purchased the dog all of their time had been spent caring for their child and then the mother was on bedrest for much of the 2nd pregnancy. Needless to say, they had their hands full and felt they weren't able to devote time to a dog. 

I had begged for a pet of any kind since the time we got married. A kitten, a fish, a dog. Finally, when we had our own home, Spencer caved and we adopted Bruno. We knew he hadn't received any form of training or learned obedience prior to coming to live with us. So we enrolled him in obedience training, which helped him to at least learn what "no", "off" and "sit" meant (and now he picks and chooses if he wants to listen to those commands). 

We were patient and caring and just tried to be a good family for him. Even though he's always been a handful, he learned to be more docile with time. He knows to snuggle my feet when it's cold and to sit on the rug and wait to greet Spencer when he hears the garage door open. For all of his flaws or faults, he has as many redeeming things about him. 

Imagine our relief when he didn't try to attack anyone when we came home from the hospital with this new creature. We were all a little uneasy about how Bruno would respond to Sawyer. All I could think was that he'd been through this before. He's part of a family and then a baby shows up, he gets ignored more and more and then eventually he's living in an animal rescue home. I wondered if he would remember that experience. I mean, surely dogs don't just forget, do they?

Or do they?...he didn't seem to mind the baby at all. Hardly seemed to notice him really. Phew. But after the first 4 or so weeks, I think the novelty had worn off. Bruno found himself being shoo'd away while I'd change a diaper. His toy would be dropped at my feet because I had to hold and feed the baby and couldn't play tug. Everyday less time and attention was devoted to him. 

I suppose all creatures have their breaking point, their bottom line. Bruno must have met his. Last night, while taking a car ride to the store with Spencer and enjoying the fresh air out the back window, Bruno made his escape. Spencer looked back just in time to see his hind paws darting out the window and into the parking lot. We only roll the window down enough for his head to fit out, so he didn't have much space to work with, but he was determined to make a break for it apparently. 

Spencer was able to pull over and Bruno came back to the car. But Spencer admitted he almost let him go. He said, "If he wants to go that bad, I should've just let him. Good riddance."

But Bruno is my baby. My first baby. I know so many people don't get how pet owners can treat their animals like children, but he filled a part of my life that, until now, a child didn't. This doesn't mean that I can or will give Bruno the same attention and care that my actual child needs and receives. But his attempted escape was a reminder of that time in my life when all I wanted was a little companion out of this crazy dog, and he eventually became that for me. The least I can do is still be that for him, right?