A Letter to the (Furry) Siblings

Dear fur babies,

Let us begin by saying we are so sorry.

We know you remember life B.C. (before children): the glory days, when you were the star of the show. We used to take long walks by the beach together, remember? You were given regular baths. You even ate hot, home-cooked meals. You had it all . . . and then you had a sibling.

When the new human made their first real appearance in your life, they rolled up to the house like they owned the place. They were always in our arms. Always stealing all the attention from visitors̶̶visitors who (back in the day) came over to squish your cute face.

For months to come, the tiny human did nothing but disrupt your leisurely lifestyle. They took up your space in (y)our bed, got you kicked off the couch, and had you pacing around at all hours of the night, trying to escape the piercing sound of their cries.

Then the tiny human became mobile. That’s when you discovered that the first few months were only the pre-show for the main event. Ear and tail pulling became the norm. Your food bowls no longer stayed out all day for you to snack from as you pleased. Your daily exercise consisted of escaping a tiny-handed death grip and trying to figure out which toys you could chew on without getting yelled at.

One day, that dreaded human sibling of yours picked up a ball̶̶your ball. They gave it a squeeze and threw it about eight inches from the spot where you were standing. It was a shitty throw (babies are terrible pitchers), but you fetched it anyway; you brought it back and dropped it at their tiny feet. They squealed and threw it again.

courtesy of Nikita Stanley.

That’s when you finally realized that maybe this new sibling of yours wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe they would even turn out to be your new best friend.

They will play with you endlessly. They will feed you an entire peanut-butter sandwich from their plate. They will hug you (admittedly tighter than you’d like) and kiss you (admittedly more frequently than you’d like) and adore you like the furry sibling you are to them, every day for the rest of your life.

In return, you’ll impart upon them some of that unspoken animal-wisdom of yours: how to be loyal, how to be affectionate, and how to enjoy life. Because of you, they’ll understand the value of patience; after all, they will have had to earn your trust. They’ll know the difference between gentle and rough, and they’ll see what unconditional love looks like.

So, our furry friends, we’re sorry to have uprooted your cushy life in the lap of luxury. But we’re so grateful that you’re here with us during these adventures in early parenthood. We can’t imagine doing any of it without you.