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Did someone order a fresh litter of puppies?

Thursday, 29 November 2012
 
 
 
Well, that's the sofa ruined.
 
In other words, Daisy had her wee pups yesterday. And really, we didn't have to do much at all. She just got on with it. As I kept repeating, wisely...
 
"Life finds a way"
 
I was mostly saying this to avoid pulling any gunk out of a dog's fanny.
 
You see, I would have drawn the short straw. I am the only one in this house who can stand any grosseries such as blood, poo and puke. It's my gift in life. I just hope it's not my only gift.
 
My day began my cleaning a huge pile of dog puke. Even by my standards, it was pretty vile.
 
When the first pup came out, I thought it hadn't made it. The wee thing really wasn't moving, and the sac seemed to be stuck around it, despite Daisy's chewing (gag).
 
"I need some gloves... go and get me some rubber gloves, and I'll free it"
 
"We don't have any gloves! We don't! He's choking! He's dying!"
 
"Just, anything, I need to get the sac off"
 
"We don't! We don't!"
 
She went running off into the scullery to find something. She came back with a pair of fingerless, woollen, LIME GREEN gloves. Fingerless. Woollen. Gloves.
 
We can laugh about it now.
 
I remembered some old flimsy catering style gloves we had in a cupboard, and she soon came bounding back with them. The sac came off the face, and the pup starting moving around. Honestly, I think this would have happened anyway. They don't seem to move much before the sac is clean off, and the mum takes care of that.
 
I was actually really surprised that Daisy figured all this out. I mean, I love her and all, but she really is the thickest dog. But she did great.
 
She even took care of all the gross stuff that came out afterwards. I won't tell you how.

 

Poor old Daisy looks so sad in that picture. It's like she's just realising the enormity of her life choices. Maybe she's sad that the dad wasn't there, and she has to go through this alone. Ahh. I feel sad for her now.


The vet had told us that there should be around an hour between each pup. She said that if we thought more were on the way, but they hadn't appeared in two hours, then we should call her. After the fourth, it looked like everything had calmed down. Daisy didn't seem to be in labour any more, a few hours had passed, everything was very calm and chilled.

So we were most surprised when, FOUR AND A HALF HOURS LATER, the runt arrived. There he was! Boom. A tiny little thing, and more than a bit dim, bless him. I called him Monkey, because of his curly little tail and tiny feet.

So there you are. Five puppies! Oh God.... five puppies. Ten weeks of five puppies.

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