It was a stagnant morning, hauntingly quiet but for the ticking of loose metal reverberating from one of the floor vents. Outside my window remained cold and sharp with dirt-white snow blanketing the uneven, rustic yard at the back of our home. The sun’s radiance reflected sparkling fluorescents throughout our second floor bedroom stinging my listless eyes.

The silence enveloped my son, Cash and I. Early spring longed for the song of birds that had sought solace in the warmth of the sun months ago. Soon their migration would signal relief from the brutal Northern Ontario winter. For now we remained indoors, escaping from the last frozen breath of the fleeting season.

Cash was nearing five months of age. We spent the early part of the morning cozy in the feather down folds of my bed tinkering with crawl balls, toy cars and other sensory playthings. We were occupying our time. We were learning to understand each other.

It was one of my first mornings as a stay-at-home-dad. Routine was a friend I looked forward to becoming acquainted with. Nothing had changed from the previous morning – Cash rigorously enjoyed his bottle and began to play while I observed, sipping on a lukewarm cup of black coffee.

At the time it didn’t seem like much of anything, but it was everything. All my son’s experiences were new. All of my experiences with him were new.

As a first time father an unnerving excitement consumed my mind. I wanted to grant him an uninhibited exploration of his new world, but simultaneously held the innate need to protect him.

A ridiculous thought, protecting Cash. He was with me. He was on our bed, inches from my reach.

Nearer the foot of my bed lay, Chipper our eighty-pound German Short Haired Pointer. He was asleep. Rhythmically taking deep breaths he calmly isolated himself away from the play and mild commotion of Cash’s fragile flailing limbs.

Chipper was a fixture in our home long before Cash was conceived. He had spent the months of my wife’s pregnancy poking his nose around her bump and cautiously wandering in and out of the nursery. He showed no symptoms of anxiety but maintained matter-of-factness about the changes occurring around him.

Cash and Chipper’s introduction was anti-climatic. A quick breach of personal space – the pressing of a Chipper’s cold wet black nose against Cash’s soft flawless cheek, and it was finished. It was what my wife and I had hoped for, striving for harmony within our young growing family.

Since the day of the introduction, Cash and Chipper neither avoided nor paid attention to one another. Tossed into co-inhabitation their relationship was too young for an exploration of purpose. To each other, they were just “there”.

That is, until our quiet spring morning.

With one large, cold gulp I finished my coffee. Placing the black mug on my bedside table I noticed Cash curiously advancing on Chipper at the end of the bed. Making his way along the plush duvet he grunted and cooed, happily struggling toward the sleeping dog.

Cash examined the furry mound, following the movement of Chipper’s chest with each deep inhalation. My son excitedly flanked the dog’s body, drawing his attention to the source of the whispery sound of Chipper’s breath. It was exciting to watch the actions of an inquisitive young mind.

Raising his head, Cash peered at me briefly. His smile was mischievous and a dribble of drool hung from the corner of his mouth. I stared back at him with love. Mistakenly my attention was drawn away from the dog.

Below my line of sight I noticed something move.

Chipper’s eyes were now open. His rhythmic breathing reverted back to probing swift bursts.

Above Chipper’s head, Cash remained studying the coarse hair and sharp whiskers that lay beneath him.

It only took a split second for me to realize that something terrible was about to occur. The look in his eyes changed and the uneventful silence evaporated from the room. Darkness blanketed the intruding light that once shone so brightly.

In that split second his head jerked with widened mouth. In that split second his mouth clenched the top of the head that was once so innocent.

I panicked. And;

Reached for my camera.

Cash had viciously attacked Chipper.

Wrapping his mouth around the crown of Chipper’s head, Cash bit down with aggressive slobbery fury.

Fortunately for Chipper, Cash was still an infant. His teeth had yet to break through the gums of his adorable little mouth, leaving the dog unscathed.

As parents of children and dogs we often carry great anxiety when the two begin to mix. It is not always clear how our furry family members will react to new human additions to our home.

Although I make light of the interaction between my son and my pet it is important to be prepared for a safe and uneventful introduction between your fur baby and your new bundle of joy.

Click here for helpful tips on how to successfully introduce your dog to your newborn.