Poor, Attention-Starved Puppies

Since we added Caleb to our family we've been asked lots of questions. Aside from the usual, "Where did he come from?", "How old is he?", and "How do you like being a Mommy?!" (arguably the most annoying question I'm asked. How am I supposed to answer that? The only answer you can really give is that it is wonderful or people start wondering about you. Anyway...), another popular question is "How are the dogs adjusting to him?"

Well, I'll tell you.

I think they are undecided.

I'm not sure if they regard him as a person equal to me and Zack or more like a pet that they have to check up on once in awhile. When we come home they always check the car seat to make sure Caleb is in there. They sniff his face and give it a lick once in awhile. When I go to wake Caleb up from his naps they are always trotting ahead of me down the hall to his room as if they were the ones who decided that it was time for him to wake up. They sit by his crib and wag their tails when I take Caleb out. They sit next to him on the couch and usually don't mind if he grabs their hair. Well, Maxwell kind of minds so he keeps a distance.

So it would seem that everything is hunky-dory and they have adjusted well to having a new person in the house.

However, there are a few things that make me wonder if there might be some jealousy towards the new addition.

For instance, when we try to help Caleb walk between us on the rug Maxwell will get in the way and try to get our attention, not caring if he steps on or trips Caleb in the process.

And recently I've been seeing a lot of this:

These are all Caleb's toys. One of the dogs, I'm pretty sure it's Mckay, will pull one of Caleb's toys out and leave it in strategic places where I normally walk, like the hallway. She won't chew the toys, but she'll move them around. And then, the next time I see her, she'll have her head bowed and act like she's done something wrong, because she knows she's not supposed to play with those toys.

Observe.

The face of shame.

Invariably I'll tell her, in a stern voice, not to play with Caleb's toys (her head bowed, her tail down, the picture of shame) and then I'll pet her and tell her she's a good girl. She then trots away, head held high, little tail in the air.

Attention-starved?

You tell me.