The greatest pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him, and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too. --Samuel Butler
“It’s another boy!” I yelled excitedly, as our one-year-old Jack Russell Terrier mix finished cleaning her newly delivered pup.
“What color is it? My daughters questioned.
“This one’s gray and white! Hang on a minute, and I’ll let you in to see it.”
“Gray and white?” they questioned.
“Yep. Man, he’s cute, too.”
“I guess the husky down the road is the father of that one, huh?” my thirteen-year-old daughter questioned.
“I’d say there’s a pretty good chance of it.”
So far, we had three pups, all males. A black and tan pup that looked just like a Rottweiler, a solid white fluffy one that resembled the white chow mix down the road, and now this one that looked just like a husky.
“Good grief, Sadey,” I scolded, “What did you do, procreate with every male in the holler?”
Looking back up at me with the big woeful eyes that earned her given name, which literally means “Sad eyes,” she seemed almost embarrassed.
“It’s okay, girl,” I assured, as I petted and soothed her. “It’s my fault I didn’t get you to the vet in time to take care of the problem, huh? You’ve been such a good girl, too, uncomplaining, no whimpering and whining. I would have definitely been screaming for drugs by now. You put me to shame.”
I guess in the battle of cats vs. dogs, you could definitely say I’m a dog person. It’s not that I dislike cats, particularly, it’s just that they are far too independent for me. Most cat lovers declare dogs as big, dumb, foolish animals, but their innate good-natured happiness is the main reason I love them.
It does not matter to my dogs whether I have been gone two days or ten minutes; I still receive the same enthusiastic greeting when my car pulls in the driveway. Dogs love with all their hearts, nothing held back, no reserves.
“Here comes another one!” I yelled as a little tan colored girl with a white stripe on her forehead appeared.
“It’s a girl!! We have a girl! I think that’s the last one,” I declared through the door to my daughters and husband.
Five minutes later, I was proven wrong, as a little brown male with a black muzzle made his appearance.
“Oh my gosh, there’s one more! It’s another boy!”
Finally, the litter was complete. After six hours of labor, Sadey was the proud mother of five puppies, each one distinctly different. Lying back in the box, she wore a look of tired contentment as they all began to nurse.
The puppies are two weeks old now, all healthy, and growing rapidly. I have promised my children that we could keep one of the litter, but it is going to be a very difficult thing to let any of them go. We have grown so attached to them.
As different as they are in appearance, they are in nature as well. The little white male, nicknamed “Pudge,” for his greediness and size, is an adventurer, and the first to climb out of the box. His brother, “Bernie,” the tan male, is much more timid, and a bit of a whiner. The little girl is very vocal and a fussbudget. The firstborn, the black one, is a loner. My favorite, the gray and white male, is extremely laid back. For all their differences, however, Sadey loves each one just the same. Soft of how God loves us; unconditionally.
At this point, I don’t have a clue as to which one will stay and which ones will go. We all have our favorites, and none of us can concur. I told my husband there is no way we can afford to keep them all, and he agrees wholeheartedly. If we did, we would have a count of seven dogs. However, I have already lived through “letting go,” once this year when my son got married; seems a little unfair of God to ask me to give up all the pups, as well.
So, if you happen to drive by my house in six weeks time, and see me out in the backyard building a bigger kennel, don’t be too surprised.
Anyone have some unwanted coupons for Puppy Chow? Donations gladly accepted.