Once upon a time we were dog people.
That was before Alice and Ike (the cats who let us live here).
After being married a few months, some friends (I use that term loosely) gifted (again, various meanings) a one year old male dog. He was a full-blooded Golden Retriever. He was huge, strong, and wild. He was a beautiful monster.
A year passed and since we couldn’t scratch the baby itch due to infertility, we got a female Golden Retriever puppy.
And so we had two large untrained dogs living in our home.
But we loved them.
But do you know what happens to a male and female dog who are supposed to be just friends?
They live in sin.
Only they keep it an absolute secret from their naive and ignorant owners. (No wonder it took us 6 years to have our first child!)
Because um, yeah, about 48 hours before my dog’s water broke on my carpet, I thought her tummy looked funny.
Just call me intuitive.
We are the kind of people the Humane Society warns about.
Irresponsible pet owners.
I did have the sense to take my dog to the vet, where her pregnancy (duh!) and immediate delivery were diagnosed. Only we were especially lucky because she had medical complications.
Yes, our dog had an emergency C-section.
And we became the proud parents of some pretty cute, albeit messy and stinky puppies (7!)
(While our dog recovered in labor and delivery, my hubby whipped up this nifty dog playpen because our Albuquerque winter was harsh).
It turned out okay in the end, the puppy sales covered all the unexpected costs and left us with enough money to buy a microwave.
We also put an end to irresponsible breeding (the dogs, not us).
(P.S. The ‘Fro will be put on hold Feb. 12 for the S.W.A.K. carnival. But that’s okay, right? Because I know all of my faithful ‘fro friends are participating!!)