The Ayatollahbaby: An FAQ

Like her pug brothers, Celie loves to sleep. Unlike
the pugs, she does an excellent Mr. Magoo impression.

Since announcing the birth of Cecelia the Ayatollahbaby, I have been inundated with questions about the child. (But sadly, no donations for her college fund. Yet.) Rather than answer them all individually, I decided to compile an FAQ to address the most frequently asked questions. 


This baby naps and eats a lot. Could she be part pug?
This seems highly likely. Given the amount of pug fur floating around the ayatollah compound, it is a virtual certainty that some pug DNA found its way into the fertilized egg. This would help explain Celie's sleeping and eating habits, in addition to her extreme cuteness. 


Will the baby be applying to join the harem?
Ew, my flock. Please keep in mind that Cecelia is my sister. Wendell may try to hump his brother's back during fits of extreme boredom, but your faithful ayatollah is far too genteel and family-oriented to engage in such shenanigans. Save those questions for Woody Allen. 

The brown-eyed girl models her
great-grandmother's bonnet from the early 1900s.

Who does the baby most resemble?
She clearly has my big brown eyes, and the top of her head is as soft as a pug's ear. I'd say this bodes well for her future.


How much does she weigh?
At birth, Cecelia was 9 pounds, 1 ounce and about 21 inches long. She currently stands at 9 pounds, 3 ounces and has grown 3/4 of an inch. 


Does she sleep through the night?
She regularly sleeps a solid four- to five-hour stretch overnight, giving mother a chance to get some much-needed rest. More important, my hearing impairment -- awarded by Allah just in time for the child's birth -- leaves me oblivious to any late-night crying. Nothing has changed in my routine -- I still sleep like a baby.  

At about 30 hours old, Celie would reflexively stick her
tongue out whenever someone did the same to her.

What is her best trick?
Some people think that dogs are far superior to babies when it comes to learning tricks -- and they're right. But babies are born with the instinctive ability to do at least one trick. Mother read during her pregnancy that if you stick your tongue out at a newborn baby, the child will return the gesture. After Celie's birth, the humans found that this trick did, indeed, work for about two days. Even more impressive, Cecelia was able to turn the tables on her parents. She now only sticks her tongue out whenever she wants to, but she's trained mother and father to follow suit (lending credence to the theory that she's part pug). 


You're a radical, ultraconservative cleric, and the baby is a female. Will she be allowed to drive a car?
Absolutely not. She's much too young. 

An old issue resurfaces (and donations are welcome)

Inspired by U.S. Sen. Rand Paul's recent airport antics, I am looking for a way to manufacture renewed outrage over one of my pet causes, the dog show "Don't Touch My Junk" movement. Any suggestions, my flock?

Wendell has suggested recruiting one of the athletes in the upcoming Animal Planet Puppy Bowl to draw an intentional delay-of-game penalty with a scripted hissy fit to raise awareness, while mother has urged a series of "junk-in" protests. Ever the thoughtful and calculating pug, I am still weighing all options. 

Behold, the Ayatollahbaby

She was the cutest baby in the hospital nursery -- I checked.

She has arrived, my flock -- our new human baby. Young Cecelia arrived early Tuesday morning, a little bit later than originally expected. Sometimes, Allah needs to take His time on important projects. 

"I get to go meet my
pug brothers? Yes!"

After three nights in the hospital, Celie was cleared to go to her new home at the ayatollah compound -- news that she greeted with great excitement and an emphatic fist pump. 


Sometimes, when a newcomer is welcomed into our home, the humans will bring Wendell and I outside to sniff him or her beforehand. This was done during our Schnauzer uncle's first visit. We contemplated a similar tactic with Celie. But Thursday's extreme cold and wind put the kibosh on that plan. As it turned out, such a move was unnecessary. Her assimilation into the family was seamless. And her diapers ensure that she cannot mark any previously claimed territory. 


Celie didn't mind being licked, sniffed or pug-snuggled, and even loud barks didn't faze her. I attribute this to the near-constant presence of Wendell and I on mother's baby bump during pregnancy. After nine months, our snorts were old hat to little Cecelia. 


Wendell was the first to greet her. He cleaned her up -- as he does for all visitors, willingly or unwillingly -- to ensure that she was fit for an audience with the ayatollah. He also performed a security check to verify her identity, and he frisked her for hidden weapons. We've recently picked up chatter in online radical chew-toy message boards about the hiring of infant assassins, so a canine cleric can never be too careful. 

The nurse missed a spot in that hospital bath. 

After Wendell cleaned and cleared the child, I moved in quickly to sniff her and welcome her to the family. My tail wagged most vigorously as I got my first whiff of newborn, my flock. Those babies do smell quite nice. I would soon invite her to join me in my favorite spot on the recliner.

Her head may be even softer than mine.

Now that Celie is here, we've found that she doesn't do all that much. Thankfully, we've learned, she is no threat to our food supply. So this will go a long way toward promoting continued goodwill and preventing any sibling rivalry from taking root. For the most part, she naps and eats. And occasionally tries on party dresses. 

All dressed up with nowhere to go.

So Wendell and I will continue to snuggle her and nurture her as we wait for the glorious, glorious day when she is finally allowed to eat solid foods. And then, my flock, we will pray to the Almighty that she is a typically messy toddler eater. 

Licking my chops

I wish this baby would hurry up and make her appearance -- I'm hungry.