If you met me eight months ago, you probably wouldn’t recognise me because I was firmly placed in the you’re-not-a-parent-to-your-dog camp.
I was the sort of person who liked posts on Facebook titled ‘Pets are not your children, stop calling them that’ and ‘Dear pet mums, you’re not a mum’. Put simply, I thought it was ridiculous.
But that was a time I now like to refer to as BM (otherwise known as ‘before Maple’). Please enjoy this picture of my 10-month-old miniature dachshund and try not to weep while you do:
Now... try and tell me how you could not consider that ball of adorableness as your fur baby. All of a sudden I was telling co-workers in the office how hard I was finding it to get sleep because I was up looking after my newborn.
I was meeting first time parents at the dog park who were also struggling to introduce their baby to solids. I was taking her to puppy school and trying to socialise her to make sure she grew up to be a well adjusted, well rounded, fully functioning adult.