Our Dog Kept Barking at the Baby’s Crib — What I Found Under the Mattress Shocked Me

Our Dog Wouldn’t Stop Barking at Our Newborn’s Crib — What I Discovered Under the Mattress Left Me Stunned

I came home to my wife and infant daughter after spending nine months abroad. Before our devoted German Shepherd began acting strangely around the baby’s crib, everything appeared to be going smoothly. His frantic barking prompted me to look into it, and I discovered a secret that would permanently destroy our family.

As if I were terrified that she might vanish if I blinked, I couldn’t take my eyes off her sleeping face and committed every detail to memory. My daughter. My daughter.

I was finally able to hold my darling Jenna at home after spending nine months in Dubai, where I had to endure several video calls and grainy ultrasound pictures.

After months of navigating life in a strange place, the weight of her in my arms seemed like an anchor, bringing me back to earth.

Ruby whispered next to me, “She has your nose,” and leaned in to embrace me. “During our calls, I kept saying that to Mom. And notice how much she resembles you in those tiny creases when she dreams.

I let myself get lost in the warmth of my home as I turned to kiss her and inhaled the familiar aroma of her coconut shampoo.

“I really missed you two. Being here with you two is like home, whereas the apartment in Dubai was just a place to sleep.”

“We missed you, too,” said Ruby. “It was hard going through this without you.”

Our German Shepherd mix, Max, was sitting quietly at my feet, rapping his tail on the nursery floor. With the exception of checking on the baby whenever she made the smallest sound, he had been by my side ever since I entered the room six hours ago.

As a dependable protector keeping an eye on our small family, his presence was comforting.

Ruby remarked, “He’s already the best big brother,” while rubbing behind his ears. “You don’t, boy? He keeps vigil every night while sleeping right here.

I laughed and recalled how dad used to protect my work boots before I went. “Just like he used to do with my shoes,” I said. “Remember that, buddy?”

It was like floating in a dream during those initial days. We got into a routine of changing diapers and feedings at midnight while sneaking kisses in between baby-care tasks. With his calm yet vigilant brown eyes, Max kept watch over the rest of us.

Jenna’s first smile, the way she would wrinkle her nose before crying, and the way she would hold Ruby’s finger while nursing were all small moments I had missed. Everything seemed ideal. Too ideal.

During a feeding at three in the morning, the first fracture formed.

From the living room, I heard Ruby’s whispered voice as I stood up to reheat a bottle. Her face was shadowed by the gentle yellow light from her phone’s screen, giving her an aged and worn-out appearance.

She was repeating, “I can’t keep doing this,” as her free hand twisted uneasily in her hair. “He’s home now, and—” As soon as she noticed me, she stopped talking and said, “Mom, I’ve got to go.”

It wasn’t her mother, though.

She spoke to her mother in an easy, informal manner that I recognized, interspersed with small giggles. This was guilty and stressful. Something in me twisted when she rushed past me to the kitchen without looking into my eyes.

“Everything okay?” Even though my heart was already racing, I tried to sound light as I asked.

She answered, “Just Mom being Mom,” but her eyes did not light up. “You are aware of her concern. particularly with the baby and everything of that.”

The baby’s cry broke the tension, but I wanted to press her, to ask why she needed to have these talks at three in the morning.

Ruby virtually sprinted off to the nursery, leaving me standing there feeling increasingly uneasy and holding an empty bottle.

There were more calls, all whispered, all terminating when I walked in. It was the first time Ruby had ever brought her phone into the bathroom while taking a shower. She also began to stare at the crib in the nursery for hours on end. The bank statement followed.

“Fifteen thousand dollars, Ruby?” With trembling palms, I held up the document. What kind of baby supplies are thirty thousand dollars? The nursery is already bursting at the seams.

She stumbled, pointing to the mountains of diapers and wipes piled in every nook and cranny. “We needed — I needed to be prepared,” she said. “I just kind of freaked out since you were gone for so long. “You know, first-time mom stuff.”

“Are you alarmed? This is a significant portion of our savings, Ruby. “And these receipts.” I fumbled among them, feeling queasy. “Size 2T baby clothes? It will be at least a year before she wears these.

“I got carried away with the sales, okay?” With a snap, she grabbed the receipts out of my grasp. “Why do you think this is such a huge deal? Do you not believe me?

I wished to trust her. How I wished I could believe her. But Max was wiser.

Every time Ruby sat in the nursery, he had taken to camping there with her. Max would repeatedly poke Jenna with his muzzle while Ruby wasn’t holding her. He began to complain about the crib as well. The identical crib in which he had previously been so serene.

He would bark, pace, and look at us with those shrewd eyes. I occasionally caught him pawing at the crib’s foundation in the middle of the night, seemingly to show me something.

Ruby insisted, “He’s just being protective,” but her voice wavered. “New infants can make dogs strange at times. According to the internet, it’s typical.

However, this wasn’t typical. I had a gut feeling that this was what Max was trying to tell us. And I knew in my heart what it was. I simply wasn’t prepared to deal with it.

After one of Max’s episodes, I slipped into the nursery and waited until Ruby fell asleep. As I got closer to the crib, Max hurried forward. Everything seemed weird because of the odd shadows the moonlight casting through the window created on the floor.

“What is it, boy?” I ran my hand down the wooden frame of the cot and whispered. “What are you trying to tell me?”

He sniffed at the mattress and whimpered. I picked it up with shaking hands, and there it was: a pregnancy test.

It was a recent positive pregnancy test. The digital display’s date made fun of me with its sharpness.

I had a three-month-old daughter. I had spent two weeks at home. No way…

“John?”

Behind me, Ruby’s voice chilled my blood. The test gripped my hand like a flaming coal as I slowly rotated.

“When?” Even though my mind was screaming with a thousand other questions, it was all I could handle.

Tears were streaming down her face as she pressed herself against the doorframe. “It happened one evening. I was staying at Mom’s one dumb night. I was feeling really alone when James, who you may recall from college, reached out to me. You were so far away, and Jenna was colicky.”

She seemed to have just torn my heart out of my chest and trampled it underfoot.

Max whimpered and rubbed against my leg.

She went on, “He saw me hide it,” pointing to Max. “I believe he has been attempting to inform you. Dogs are constantly aware, are they not? When things isn’t right.”

Even I was frightened by the harsh, fractured sound of my laughter. “Our dog is more devoted than my wife, then? Are you saying that to me?

She pleaded, “Please,” as she reached for me. “This is something we can resolve. I cherish you. There was a mistake—a very bad one.

I took a step back. “Love? For weeks now, you have been deceiving me. Making plans with that money—who knows what? Did you intend to run? “Take my daughter and go away.”

Her quiet was sufficient response. At that moment, Jenna began to cry, her cries piercing the dense tension like a blade.

“Go to her,” I replied in a hollow voice. “At least one of us should comfort her.”

That evening, as I stuffed clothes into a duffel bag, tears clouded my vision.

Max stood ready to follow, watching from the doorway. Every object I seized seemed like a nail in our marriage’s coffin.

I instructed Ruby, “Take care of Jenna,” and I made my way to the door with Max following closely behind. “I’ll have my lawyer contact you about the custody arrangements.”

For a week, she called every day. After that, every other day. We finally got together to discuss the divorce process in a coffee shop called Neutral Ground.

Despite everything, I still felt heartache when I saw her, drawn and pallid.

She said, “I never stopped loving you,” with rims of her eyes red. “I know you probably don’t believe that anymore, but it’s true.”

“Love isn’t enough if it doesn’t include faithfulness.” I got to my feet. “You damaged something that is irreparable. Trust is not a vase that can be put back together with glue. The cracks always show after it’s broken.

My dog ultimately revealed the truth to me and remained devoted even as my entire world collapsed. A canine being more honest than a person could be viewed as ironic by some. I simply refer to it as true love.

I forced a tiny grin as I looked down at my faithful friend that night. “Just you and me now, boy.”

After seeing his tail wag once, I knew we would be alright. Eventually, perhaps, but not today or tomorrow.