It’s 1909, and I’m Lady—a Cocker Spaniel with soft fur and a heart full of love for my family. Jim Dear and Darling gave me life as a Christmas gift, and for years, I’ve lived in warmth and comfort. I know every creak of the floorboards, every tone in their voices. But now, something’s changed. They’re quieter, distracted. The baby’s arrival was supposed to bring joy, and it did—but I feel it, the subtle shift. I’m no longer the center.

I confide in Jock and Trusty, my neighbors. Jock barks that it’s natural, that I should adapt. Trusty nods, his old nose twitching with sympathy. Then, from the shadows, a dog appears—scruffy, confident, eyes gleaming with knowing. Tramp. He calls me 'Pidge' and says, 'When a baby moves in, a dog moves out.' I snap at him, but his words stick.

Now, as I watch the baby sleep, I wonder—am I still needed? And if not… where do I belong?