Breeding dogs is not for the faint of heart. It’s a tremendous amount of work, but the rewards are worth the effort. Sometimes it’s heartbreaking, sometimes it’s wonderful. I have two girls I want to breed and just by coincidence, they are in season at the same time. I’ve had two litters at the same time before – litter of six and a litter of seven, but it was in the summertime. This time, puppies will be born late September/early October and by the time they are even remotely big enough to go outside, winter will have set into Northern MN. Yet, I work from home, so this whole crazy idea is actually possible. Just because it is possible doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a good idea…
The first litter arrives. I expected at most six puppies because that was the most her mother ever had. Dither is a first time mother and like others before her, insists that the whelping area is not where any good couch dog should lay down. I don’t argue with the dam so sure enough, the first puppy is born on the couch, thankfully already covered in blankets. After the first puppy, it’s an easy task to lure her where she needs to be by moving the puppy. The second puppy is born an hour later. The x-rays showed 9-10. The hours tick by at a snail’s pace. One hour between puppies – that’s fine, that’s what it was between the first and the second. Two hours. Getting a little worried. Three hours. Getting a lot worried The vet dispensed oxytocin if needed, but it only works a couple of times. With 7-9 puppies to go, I am hesitant to even try it. I give a shot. Nothing. That’s it. Thankfully, I recognize uterine inertia when I see it. Then there is the inevitable call to the ER clinic, because of course it is 2 a.m. Mark and I and my sister, who loves to assist with whelping puppies pack up mama and the two babies and off we go. At the ER clinic, they try another dose of oxytocin, but it’s obvious the dystocia is not going to allow for a natural birth.
The clinic is staffed with one vet and one vet tech. 7-8 puppies are all going to be born within minutes of each other. Mark, Nancy and I suit up to be the whelping crew and resuscitate the puppies as the tech hands them out the operating room door. Nancy is game but hasn’t done this before. She puts out her hand and ask that I rub it like I would rub a puppy that needs to wake up and breathe now. She is surprised by how vigorous I am.
Things go smoothly, other than one puppy slipping out of the vet’s hands and to the floor. Nancy almost loses it when she sees this happen. Good thing puppies are pliable and bounce. The vet does a beautiful job of stitching the mother back together; we wait for her to get a chance to become stable. Then and only we take a tally of the puppies. Two girls and seven boys, all Irish marked fawn brindles with just a sprinkling of white here and there. Seriously? Seven boys when I bred the litter to get the perfect bitch? I was expecting six at the most and now there are nine. Well, that’s great – I love having a big litter to pick from. But all Irish nmarked fawn brindles? Not a parti, not a fawn or a blue?
We arrive home, they are installed in the whelping box and all is well. The first few days are always worrisome – are they gaining? Does Dither have enough milk?
