PETS
They Ain’t Nuthin’ but Hound Dogs
by Maggie Zeibak
I quickly jumped in the car, anticipating that the early morning traffic jams might
W
ould I be in time? Would they wait for me? Mild waves of ap- prehension hovered nearby as
impede my progress. “Out of my way, don’t you know that
babies are due,” my inner road-rager screamed, “These are a surprise.” Yes, a surprise indeed. Little Pepper, a two-year-old Chi- Wiener
(Chi- Growing bigger and cuter.
huahua/Dappled Dachshund mix) was adopted in Montana just as the family mem- ber was relocat- ing to San Clemente. Unbe- knownst to him, she’d been party- ing with one of the dogs in the Rescue Home, and it wasn’t until she arrived here that we did an,
covering the puppy and nibbling away at the um- bilical cord. Licking her baby’s body to stimulate breathing, it wasn’t long before there was a wee hound firmly attached to his mommy, greedily at- tacking his first buffet meal. This process was re- peated again…and again. Spacing deliveries is pretty much the norm, but now it was conflicting with the morning routine and that thing called work. And that’s when I got the call. “There may be an-
Tending to the newborn.
“Oh-oh” and concluded that she was in the family way. That might explain why she was so affectionate, very warm and hun- gry. The vet confirmed it and said it would be a couple of weeks yet. Right … it’s now four days later and these little puppies are
other one,” I heard, “can you come over?” By now there were two dappled
puppies and one black/tan fighting for the food source, jockeying for position with their tiny pink paws, uncaring where they trod or poked. My fantasy of being a Doula/Midwife slowly burst, like Pepper’s water sac, when I realized that number
A taste of freedom.
eager to train for the Wiener Races today. Once we got over the shock of un-
expected additions to the family, we had done a little research on diet, supplies, soft blankets and what behavior to expect, fully anticipating that time was on our side. The experts said that when the birth is immi- nent, Pepper would start “nesting” - drag- ging towels and blankets to where she would set up her nursery - that her tem- perature would drop and she would show signs of discomfort. Being crate trained, she had a towel available, so when she put her- self to bed a little early that night, no-one paid attention. Until 4:30am. At that time, her human parent heard
a little whimper and figured she had to go outside, so he opened up her night crate and there in all its messy glory was the firstborn. Oops! Time to bring in the birthing box, this was serious business. Pepper, instinct taking over, busied her- self dealing with the yuk-pooey membrane
50 SANCLEMENTEJOURNAL
four wasn’t coming and there was no need for the sterile gloves, just as I was getting really good at praise and encouragement. She’d cleaned her litter and proudly had them on display by the time I arrived – savor the moment, Pepper, there isn’t going to be another time. Your responsible humans will have you spayed shortly. Events usually conspire to present
amazing opportunities, and even though I missed my opportunity in the nursery, who can say that my days won’t be en- riched by watching and playing with these soft-as-cashmere, no bigger than a rat, little balls of fur with razor-sharp teeth, who will complete the happiness of another family very soon. Their eyes won’t open for about 10 days and at that time they will start to hear. After they are five-weeks old Pepper will get fed up with them and she’ll start to wean them onto puppy food – that’s when the real fun starts. I’m really good at playing with puppies. b
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