Right on Time

 

It was about three weeks ago that I began to suspect that what I didn’t want to happen was going to happen.  Sophie was going to have puppies.  It wasn’t that I didn’t intend it to happen.  I just didn’t intend it to happen now.  “Next year,” I told everyone who asked.  After all, that’s one of the reasons I got Scout.  But he’s not even a year old yet and there’s all the stuff I have to do before I breed them.  Things like getting him registered and doing some genetic testing and letting him grow up a little more and seriously preparing myself for all it takes to raise a litter of puppies.  But back around Easter, Scout either opened the front door or Sophie opened the door for him and when I came back from the barn one afternoon, there they were.  Together.  I had been so careful and the time was almost up for anything to happen.  “Well,” I told myself, foolishly, “he’s so young (seven months) that he’s probably not very fertile.  It will be okay.”

I kept an eye on Sophie and she didn’t seem to be getting big around the middle.  Her girlish figure remained in place, and I thought I had dodged the bullet.  I did not need puppies right now.  My plans for next year seemed to be back on track.  Then, a couple of weeks ago, I noticed something different.  Sophie was making milk.  Well, darn.  But she still didn’t look like she was having puppies, so I told myself that she probably would only have three or four.  “I’ll make the best of it,” I said.  As one of my smarty-pants young friends said, “You know when a couple is in love, they find a way.”  When she said it, I couldn’t reach her, so she didn’t get smacked.

So, I was suddenly faced with preparations for the blessed event.   A plastic wading pool was first on the list.  I had seen a stack of them at both Dollar Stores just last week.  Did I mention that we are having a heat wave in Middle Tennessee?  No plastic wading pools were to be found.  Finally, I found one at another store 15 miles away and had it held for me.  One problem was solved.  I put it in the corner of my bedroom and spread nice, clean newspapers in it.  Sophie watched me from her resting place on my bed.  She expressed no interest whatsoever in getting in it.

In fact, as time grew closer, Sophie expressed a strong opinion about where she wanted to have these puppies.  Not that she knew that’s what was going to happen, but her instinct was strong to find a hidden, dark spot for the big event.  She dug a hole under the ramp at the end of my front porch and insisted that this was the spot.  When we blocked that entrance, she dug a hole under one of the big shrubs in the corner of the yard.  When I made her stay in the house, she took up residence in my bed.  This was not going as smoothly as I had hoped.  But, there were only going to be a few puppies and everything was fine. 

Last Sunday, I knew things were eminent.  She was acting very needy and was stuck to me like Velcro.  She had slept beside me in the bed for two nights, right against my side.  It was like being in bed with a heater running on high.  I enlisted my neighbor, Clay, to keep an eye on her while I was at church and had lunch.  “I don’t know nothing about birthing no puppies,” he said, in his best Butterfly McQueen imitation.  He is quite the comedian.  I got a text from him as I was on my way home.  Sophie is on the bed asleep, it said.  I left her there and the other dogs are outside.  She was still on my bed when I got home.  I showed her the nice wading pool with its newspapers.  She wasn’t interested. I explained that I had driven all the way to Shady Grove to get the thing and she was going to have to use it.  I put on my shirt with the words, It’s fine, I’m fine, everything is fine.  There were only going to be a few puppies, after all.  Did I mention that it was Father’s Day?  Sophie is always a little dramatic.

At 1:00, I checked on her.  There were two puppies.  When she got underway, she meant business.  She was busy licking one puppy and the other was already making his way to his first meal.  By my next trip, there were three and then suddenly, there were five.  My plans for just a few puppies were circling the drain.  By mid-afternoon, there were nine loud and healthy puppies in the middle of their bed and Sophie was looking at me like, “What just happened and how long are they staying?”  I began to think about where I might get some goat milk, in case I needed to supplement mom’s supply and I was glad I got the larger size pool instead of the little one.

The next morning, I persuaded Sophie to go outside and I inspected each one.  Five girls and four boys.  Seven sable and white and two slightly unexpected tri-colors.  White around their necks, tiny white feet and a little white tip on every tail. Sophie is a great mom, attentive but perfectly willing to allow me to handle her offspring.  The puppies have full bellies and seem to already have the hang of taking turns at the milk bar.  So far, extra milk has not been needed.  Scout is fascinated by them, but Sophie growls at him if he gets too close.  So he sits at a distance and stares at them, whining.  I keep telling him that soon enough they will be old enough to play with him.  And I keep telling Sophie that they will be okay if she leaves them long enough to eat and potty.  After I posted the news on facebook, one of my sarcastic friends called to congratulate me on having just a few puppies.  I’ve never been good with math! 

As I lie in bed at night and listen to contented puppy grunts and watch tiny feet and tails waving in the air, I am reminded of a Brandi Carlile song.  “It wasn’t right,” she sings, “but it was right on time.”  I had forgotten how those tiny babies can heal my heart.  Who needs pills when you can smell puppy breath? It’s been a rough few weeks around here.  But like my shirt says, I’m fine, it’s fine, everything is fine.  Maybe these puppies are just what I needed.  Maybe now was right on time.  Sophie thinks so.