Sorry about the crappy colors. It’s hard to shoot video in a room that’s both dark, and harshly lit in one area.
Flash format, under the cut, or here’s a link to the wide screen video. Oh, and I still need to get a longer firewire cord to be able to set up the webcam. I’m going to hit Circuit City tomorrow and pick one up. So, one more day.. hopefully.
Happy Birthday, kids! You’re a week old today. You still don’t have names, because I am old fashioned and superstitious about naming puppies. I think it’s bad luck to give them call names before four weeks – a holdover from my Grandmother’s policy on naming dogs. So, for now you are ‘Boy’ and ‘Girl’, but it’s said with the utmost in affection and love.
Already, you show signs of individuality.
Girl, you’re a placid sleeper, preferring to be on your back, your fat little tummy basking in the glow of the heat lamp. Nursing, however, is a different story. You’re still restless and almost aggressive, insisting on finding your own nipple, dammit, without any help from me. So, I let you be, and you pick out the one you like, and latch on like a furious little leech. You get angry if the milk doesn’t flow quickly enough, rejecting at least two nipples before you find the one you like. You are growing by leaps and bounds, having gained a full 5.4 ounces in a week. Your coat is sleek and seal dark, with a few well spaced flecks of golden red. I love you for your determination, and your fighting nature.
My little Boy, you are sweet and steady and calm. You sleep curled in on yourself, preferring always to be tucked into your mother’s side. You nurse at whatever nipple I place you at, dropping off contentedly when you drift off to sleep. Your eyes are starting to open, just a tiny little bit, and you don’t complain when I pick you up to weigh you, unlike your screaming, furious sister. Your weight gain has been slower, although fairly steady. In a week, you’ve gained 3.5 ounces. You’re not just lighter than your sister, you’re smaller overall – shorter in body length, and more compact. You’re a lovely shade of silvery fawn, with a deep wide chest and adorable little white feet. Everytime I pick you up, I kiss you on the nose.
You’re both too young for cake, and I am, as I said, too superstitious to celebrate just one week of life, but I’ll drink a toast to you both this evening, and rub your little tummies before I tuck you in for bed. Logic might tell me not to get attached to you already, but hearts don’t always listen to logic, do they?
Pictures below the cut, or the full set is here.
Not much to add, other than that all three pups are doing well – the boy, the girl, and Mr. Monkey.
Mr. Monkey is now an official part of her litter, taking ‘naps’ with his brother and sister, and getting nudged onto Sailor’s nipples to ‘nurse’. Last night, I screwed up and chucked him onto Sailor’s bed on the floor while I was changing the whelping box, and she looked at me with an expression of horror usually reserved for mass murderers and people who drive slowly in the left hand lane.
I quickly returned him to her side, where she cleaned him off tenderly and tucked him underneath her side, all while giving me looks that made me feel like something less than dirt.
I was thinking of chucking Mr. Monkey in the washing machine, but shudder to imagine Sailor’s expression at watching her ‘child’ swirling around in hot soapy water. She’d probably call animal control on me.
Below the cut are some new photos of the pups and their brown and orange big brother. Clicking on the thumbnails will take you to the full sized images. Alternately, you can go straight to the entire photos set here.
BTW, cam should be up by Monday morning!
It’s day three, and the puppies are all doing just fine. Everyone is eating well, gaining weight, and looking fat and glossy coated – just what you want in a litter. Sailor’s milk is in, and she’s finally huffing a little less as a result. Her appetite is good, and she’s drinking lots of water.
She has, however, gone a little bit nuts.
Today was the day Sailor woke up and realized she really, really, really loves her puppies. Loves them in an obsessive compulsive, ‘quick get a restraining order’ kind of way. She’s got that glazed over, googly eyed look on her face, and getting her to go outside to pee has become a chore.
“Think of all the things that could happen while I’m gone!” you can almost hear her thinking.
So, she sits in the whelping box, panting and looking worried, until I lift her up and carry outside, where she pees, spins around the yard checking for stray puppies she might have missed, then returns to the house to check for puppies in the sofa cushions. Reassured she hasn’t left any under there with the spare change, she finally returns to the whelping box in a state of mild panic. Shoving all of the blankets into a nest seems to calm her down a little, until the next mandatory pee break.
The last time Sailor went outside, she suddenly flew across the yard, intent on something she’d noticed in a holly bush. It was Mr. Monkey, Tula’s well chewed on stuffed squeaky toy. Sailor decided Mr. Monkey was obviously a missing puppy she’d somehow forgotten outside. Picking Mr Monkey up, she flew back to the whelping box, tucked him in with the puppies, and curled around all three of them with a defiant look that seemed to say “What? A girl can’t accidentally leave her stuffed puppy outside by accident?”. Hey, who am I to argue.
We’ve now worked out a compromise. When Sailor has to pee, I let her carry Mr. Monkey outside in her mouth. She then brings him back to the whelping box, where I leave him until it’s safe to tuck him away someplace until the next pee break. I just hope the pups won’t be traumatized by growing up in a litter that consists of two puppies, and one stuffed brown and orange gorilla.
Pix below the cut.
Sailor surprised me a day early, and presented us with two bouncing baby brindle Frenchie puppies this morning – a silvery brindle boy, and a seal brindle girl. The girl weighed in at 9.6 ounces – almost entire ounce larger than her brother, who weighed in at 8.7 ounces. The girl is a vocal little thing, screaming whenever she doesn’t immediately find a nipple, and a restless, rooting nurser. Her brother is much more placid. Other than a few squeaks when we were getting him started after surgery, he’s been a quiet, contented nurser.
Sailor lost quite a bit of blood, so it was a bit scary for a while there. Scarier still is using a new Veterinarian for a section, especially one that involves a three hour round trip and a border crossing. You’re basically going in blind and crossing your fingers that they’ll know what they’re doing, and that your drive will be quick, easy and uneventful. We were lucky, and everything turned out well.
Below the cut, you’ll find some pictures of the new little rug rats. The firewire cord for the cam isn’t long enough, so until my repeater arrives you’ll have to make do with still photos.
In related news, I need some naming suggestions. Since this is Rebel’s first litter for us since his death, I’d really like to use names that include his. So, we’re looking for registered names that include the word ‘Rebel’. So far, all I can come up with is “Rebel Yell”, which I’m sure has been used to death and back. If anyone out there has a more creative and imaginative bent than I do, leave me your suggestion in the comments section. Don’t forget, brevity is of the essence, since using our prefix of ‘Absolut Bullmarket’ uses up a lot of the allowable letters we can use for their names.
Don’t forget – puppy pix below the cut!!
Email Carol@BullmarketFrogs.com
Located in Ontario, Canada