A Christmas Gift from Carli

 

So, it snowed last night here in Middle Tennessee.  I saw a quote this morning that said, more or less, if you don’t find joy in snow, you will just have less joy and still the same amount of snow.  That’s a pretty good point.  There is something about snow, especially in a place where large snowfalls are a rare occurrence.   I do have to admit that I’m finding more joy in watching the snow from the windows than being out in it these days.  The only problem is, I have eleven dogs in the house with me.

That is not a misprint – I have eleven dogs keeping me company.  Four adults and a litter of seven puppies that made their appearance just before Christmas, much to my embarrassment and dismay. 

Growing up on a farm, I know how biology works with males and females.  I really do.  I try to be responsible with my dogs, and I have to admit I have been a little snarky in the past about people who let their dogs get pregnant without planning it.  “I don’t know what’s so hard about just putting them up,” I have said.  You know what they say about Karma.  Evidently, putting them up does not always work out, not when Scout is involved.

I had already had an accidental litter with Sophie this fall, when she proudly presented me with six newborns in the living room one morning.  I had not planned another litter until the next spring, but they turned out to be an outstanding bunch of puppies and almost all of them had already gone to great homes.  I certainly did not mean for Carli to have puppies with Scout, who is her own father!  In fact, I was planning to have her spayed right after Christmas.  Little did I know that it was too late. 

The saga (why is everything in my life a saga?) began on my porch, when Eames, my neighbor’s granddaughter, said to me, “I think Carli is going to have puppies.”  I gave her an incredulous look.  “That is not possible,” I said.  “For one thing, she was in the pen for the whole three weeks and for another, they would have been here a month ago if she were.”  Eames nodded but I could tell she wasn’t convinced.

Turns out Eames was right.  I had remembered the dates incorrectly and although she had been in the pen, Scout had somehow got around that barrier.  As one of my friends told me, “Your fence is not working.”  That very night, I could not find Carli to put her in the house with the other dogs.  And, in Snoopy’s words, “it was a dark and stormy night.”  Mid-morning the next day, Carli was in the yard briefly and acted about as normal as she ever does.  She came in for a while, left for a while, and came back late in the afternoon.  It was at that point I suspected that Eames was right.  Carli either had puppies or was about to have puppies.

Panic mode set in when she disappeared again.  It was going to be cold that night, and I couldn’t figure out if the puppies were already here somewhere, or where they might be.  A search ensued, involving my neighbor Clay, who seems to get sucked in to most of my misadventures.  Carli was last seen going toward his house so that’s where we started the search.  I was standing on the edge of the holler beside his yard calling when suddenly Carli was there, just behind me.  “Where did you come from?” I asked.  She wouldn’t say, and in a few minutes she was gone again.  Sophie and Bear were sniffing around an overgrown area near the head of the path that leads to the branch, but Carli was nowhere to be seen. 

After another round of fruitless calling and rising panic, we went back to my house.  It was getting dark and Clay offered to go to the barn to feed the horses.  I said, “I’m going to take Scout and go back one more time.  Maybe he will find her.”  So, back I went, with Scout accompanying me.  Once again, I stood beside the holler and called.  And sure enough, I turned and there she was.  This time when she disappeared, Scout was right behind her and I managed to get a glimpse of her disappearing under the exposed roots of a tree.  Clay returned from the barn and joined me.  We agreed that there was no way either of us could get down in that hole.  And it was evident that puppies were down there.  Eames was not here and wouldn’t be back for some time, so we decided that rescue would have to wait until morning.  Carli did not seem to think she needed rescuing but I could not let her raise puppies, even unplanned puppies, in a hole in the ground.  I have no idea why she decided a den in the woods was the place to have her puppies, even if it was a pretty nice space.

At about eleven o’clock that night, I was awakened by the phone.  It was Clay.  “Eames is down in that hole,” he said.  I sat straight up in bed.  “She’s what?”   Eames had returned home and was convinced the puppies would freeze if they stayed where they were.  So, bless her heart, she took a light and her phone and crawled into what turned out to be a very big den to retrieve mother and babies.  She said later that it was big enough for dog, puppies, her and at least one more person her size.  I cannot imagine what the original occupant might have been.  Clay was beside himself.  Her phone did not work underground. All he could hear was leaves rustling and puppies whining.  He said he was trying to figure out what to say when he called the Rescue Squad to come and get Eames out of the hole, when she appeared, carrying a tote bag filled with seven squirming puppies and an anxious Carli following closely.

It was after midnight before we had mom and babies settled in the plastic wading pool that we had just put away from Sophie’s litter. 

Scout and Sedric, the one puppy still with us from the last bunch, were fascinated.  Sophie was appalled and wanted nothing to do with the situation.  I was resigned.  They seemed healthy, certainly eating well and very loud in their demands for a meal.  Eames and Clay went home, I went back to bed, and everyone settled down.  Does anyone in this house ever get an uninterrupted night of sleep?

So, now here we are, five weeks later, and seven cute energetic balls of fur are eating on their own and about to take their first trip to the vet for what I hope is a clean bill of health and their first shots.  Carli is already giving indications that she is finished with her part of the production, and it is up to me to keep them fed.  And they can certainly eat! They have their own temporary room, their cozy crate to sleep in and they are at the perfect size to do puppy snuggles and kisses by the fire on cold nights.  Sedric went to his new home just before Christmas, Sophie still wants nothing to do with the puppies, and I’m hoping they can find good new homes in the next couple of weeks.  I’m ready for some rest, just as soon as I make some improvements on my fence!