There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


Meet Sweety Pie

Today's Menu

Soup du Jour: Corn Chowder
Indignity du Jour: Asked to train my replacement

So very tacky. I used to work for bad people.

Yesterday at 3 a.m., there was a commotion. It was caused by Sweety Pie -- she was trashing her bedroom. She knocked things over, dragged stuff around, paced around... I let her outside, thinking she had to pee, which she did. Then she settled down a little bit and I went back to bed. A very short time later, Katy, Buster, and I all sat up like a shot when we heard a tiny squeal.

Sweety Pie had nested in my son's closet and had given birth to one puppy, a baby girl who looked just like her mom. The second one came about an hour later after much pacing and pushing, a second was born, much darker in color. She cleaned him up right away. Birth is a very messy business. Amniotic fluid, blood, placenta everywhere. Many loads of laundry were done. Another hour passed, then several popped out one after another. I moved her out of the monkey's closet and into the child's plastic sandbox I'd bought to use as a whelping box. By the time I left for "work," she had given birth to seven sweet, tiny little puppies. I went to work for a while and hated myself for it. When I got home, I counted again. Still seven, so she seemed to be done. Putter around, do some dishes, scramble some eggs for her, check again... wha? Nine puppies? Nine? Puppies?

See for yourself:

See how skinny she is? I have cooked for her more than I have ever cooked before. Scrambled eggs, chicken, puppy food. She is always starving. Poor little thing.

Such good therapy.

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birth & death