Saturday, September 25, 2010

Puppy Love


“Your dog is definitely pregnant.” We have just been to Dublin and our dog has been boarding with a friend. “Her nipples are really distended,” she continues.
‘Yikes. ’It is not a complete surprise. Julie and I have been discussing whether or not the dog is pregnant after she disappeared for a couple of hours during her season a month ago. It’s a classic case of denial – we don’t want her to be therefore she isn’t. But reality is now hitting us in the face and I am feeling a bit of a fool.
“Well, you know how it is. When you see something every day, you are not aware of changes.” I am mumbling a weak excuse for not noticing the dog’s condition.
Looking back I realise that I noticed that something was different when Chips (the dog) came back from her escapade. She took to carrying a little ball with her everywhere. She was jumping on the furniture (preferably our bed) anytime you took your eye off her and although she didn’t put on too much weight (she was always super-skinny), her nipples did look a little bigger.
The next morning I book Chips into the vet. I used to think that female dogs needed to have a season before they could be spayed. At one time vets would have recommended this as it was seen to be healthier for the dog as it got older. Now this thinking has been reversed and it is recommended to get your dog spayed before their first season.
Now they tell me.

Shaved
The vet takes Chips into her operating room whilst my lad and I wait anxiously for news. A head appears around the doorway. “Is it OK if we shave your dog?” the vet asks. “Sure,” I say and a vision of the dog coming out like a mole dances in front of my eyes. “We just need to shave a bit of her fur away for the scan,” she explains. The vision disintegrates.
‘Can we see the scan?’ The nurse calls us into the room and shows us the image on a screen. “There is just one pup that we can see.” She points to the screen and we can make out a skeleton and a pulsating kidney bean that we are told is the heart beat. It looks big. “Of course there could be more hiding behind this one.” The vet is giving us her diagnosis. “It will be about 2 or 3 weeks. You might need to bring her in when she is whelping to have a caesarean, as she is having a very large pup.”

The birth
One week later, Julie goes into the kitchen at 5am. Chips is acting strangely. She is very unsettled. ‘I think the pup is coming,’ I say as I get out of bed and pull on a jumper. Chips is being very relaxed about the whole affair. She is sitting on her favourite seat with Julie and I holding a paw each and telling her she is doing well. She makes a few straining motions, I run around getting towels and water for some reason, old sitcoms have a lot to answer for. We have done a bit of homework on doggie births on the internet over the week and one site suggested that if a dog is only having one pup this gives the baby loads of space to stretch out and will look bigger on the scan. We are hoping for a natural birth. I don’t want to get the vet out of bed to do an emergency operation unless it is absolutely necessary. Not only because it would cost a fortune but the baby would need feeding every two hours after the first week as the milk would dry up. Our fingers are crossed and we hope Mother Nature knows what she is doing.
The internet suggests giving a whelping dog vanilla ice cream. The article mentions calcium for the birth and sugar for an energy boost. It also suggests taking the dog for a walk in the yard to get the pup in the right position and help move things along. I cut a slice of ice cream into cubes and hand feed them to Chips who, although slightly distracted, eats them all up after only a moment’s hesitation. I put a new battery in the torch and out we go into the night air; Chips, as ever, charging ahead, eager for some action.

Cut short
At the top of the drive I shine the torch toward the dog. ‘Oh my God, the pup is coming out.’ With no effort the pup slides out smoothly, landing on the drive. ‘Thank God it didn’t fall down the cattle grid’, I am thinking as I pull off my jumper, carefully picking up the newest edition to the family. Julie runs to get the boys and they leap out of bed in a way they never do for school. The newborn pup is carried triumphantly back inside followed by a very pleased and eager mother, wagging her tail and all business.
Into the bed set up in a quiet corner, the mother and pup settle down while we all gaze down at the wee cutie as it squirms about trying to find a teat. The children are happy to see what our newest family member looks like and I am delighted that we didn’t have to call the vet.

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