“WHAT`S THAT, BOY? TIMMY`S FALLEN DOWN THE WELL?”...
THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM…
Happy New Year
MAD AS A BOX OF FROGS
EMAIL ME .
Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.
"IN DOG YEARS, I`M DEAD"
Friday, January 15, 2016
I knew the condition I would get them back in. I was not disappointed. Back they trailed in twos and threes, uniformly covered in mud.
Angel slunk in last. She was so covered in twigs and bits of conifer that all that was needed was a set of lights and a tinsel star for her to pass for a minute four legged Christmas tree. She was completely unrepentant and not at all helpful as I tried to remove the miniature forest , branch by branch. She had
collected them, and she would keep them.
Done at last and off she went to sulk. Angel, you must understand is truly and hopelessly spoiled, and sleeps round my neck like a furry scarf. (Fortunately she has not inherited her mother Solitaire`s interesting habit of…scenting the room frequently). She is totally arrogant, and is the only one not impressed by Plush having a family.
Plush, however, is quite enjoying the respect that being a mother earns for her from the others. Being a mother makes you important in the eyes of the pack. And she is doing really well. The two boys are now so big and fat that I would hesitate to weigh them in case they broke my little scales. And they are amazingly similar – might as well be twins. I will be interested to see whether the similarity increases as they grow up.
Meanwhile the weather is cold, and all is calm and quiet here.
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Well, Plush has done it! Not without incident. She spend a day in rather ineffective labour, and after 8 hours produced a pair of hind legs – and promptly gave up entirely. I had to get the puppy out without any help from the bitch, which was not at all funny and will not be described here.
Off to the vet with madam, who clearly thought that was it over. The vet was a bit worried about the total inertia and how the remaining puppies were carried, so Plush ended up with a Caesarian and two huge bouncing boys.
I took away the woozy Plush and the pushy complaining boys. They had read the manual, and knew that they were due substantial quantities of milk immediately. It`s customary to offer a little help in this, and Plush had no complaint. And once plugged in, they made it clear that they had no intentions of coming off – ever. Meanwhile Plush was slowly coming to terms with her new situation, and clearly liked it.
So despite the rocky beginning, all has gone well. Her huge boys (which look amazingly alike) have stopped complaining and are growing and growing, almost visibly. Plush is completely out to lunch on Planet Puppy. And for once I am really not worried about the litter.
They are a week old today, and I expect at their rate of growth they will be on the lead in another week!