10:30 PM I put baby puppies to bed and crawl in mine. It was a long day that started for me at 5:30 AM. I was up at the crack of moon to get ready to drive down south to the breeder to pick up a precious, unseen, baby Pomeranian. I was supposed to pick up one puppy, but came home with two. Salespeople love to buy, don't they?
If you've ever had a Pom, you know what a delight they are. Cute balls of inquisitive fur who are highly intelilgent, cocky, and really know how to work a crowd. I had a Pom about four years ago. He was eighteen years old when we had to put him down. Even our vet cried. It has taken us this long to be able to bring another one home because the first, Bradley McLeod, was so amazing.
10:50 PM I awaken to sharp puppy squeaks and run to check on them. Angus McLeod needs a potty break. Trained already at eight weeks, I scoop both he and his sister, Hailey Devyn up and deposit them on the puppy pad so that they can take care of business. I live on a lake and nature preserve, and at 1 pound 2 ounces and 1 pound 4 ounces, there is no way I am taking them outside late at night with the amount of wildlife I have around my home.
10:52 PM they need to chow down (again) and they want to play. Great. I want to sleep. I lay on the floor in the family room and watch with one eye as they cavort around with each other. Hailey is the oldest and at one pound four ounces she outweighs baby brother Angus by two ounces. He is half her size, and may even be smaller than a gerbil. He's expected to be all of three pounds at full growth. She may reach four to five pounds. Judging by the way she eats it will be closer to the five. He is carrying a petite Nylar brand bone around in his mouth that is almost bigger than he is. She drops hers and takes the other end of his. They chew contentedly, each working on an end. Finally get them back into their bed at 11:15 PM and I fall into mine.
1:11 AM I hear the now familiar squeek. I peer into the porta-play pen we purchased especially for them. They are so small that they have to be corraled lest someone inadvertently step on them, and I don't want them to find mischief for themsleves, i.e., going behind the refrigerator, under the sofas, on my orientals. He realizes he has me trained to respond when he squeaks and jumps on sleeping Hailey to show her what he can do. I think that my responding like this every time he decides he wants human interaction may not be smart, but they are already in the potty training mode so I do what needs to be done: get up and get them on the potty pad to reinforce the plan. For good measure he leaps on Hailey's back again to make sure she is awake and knows that they are about to be set free again.
1:27 AM they are finally resting after chowing down, again, and racing around the family room. They want to be cuddled and I oblige. (I drowsily wish I had planned to take the day off.)
2:44 AM I hear what I now recognize is his sharp squeak. Back out to the family room, I wondered where all of the help was that I was promised earlier. Now when I put them on the pad it is automatic. They are crunching on their puppy chow, Angus has his front paws in the bowl, and Hailey keeps taking the pebbles out of the bowl and putting them on the floor before selecting just the right one to munch on. Diet conscious already, she's all girl.
2:58 AM Angus discovers his love for diamond earrings and keeps going for the studs in my ears. Suddenly I am irresistible and they want nothing less than to shower me with puppy kisses. They start to wrestle and sound like little gremlins. I am going to bed and so are they.
5:30 AM Sharp angry squeaks. I am up for the day. Oh, goody. I can catch the sunrise for the second day in a row. I wonder if they sell doggie diapers. Is Starbucks open at this hour? They are both awake in their porta-cot and are glad to see me, greeting me with wagging tails and tiny little Pom bounces. They have not cried for their mother since we picked them up and don't seem to care that they have been separated from the rest of the pack. They are in their new pack, and at the moment, this is all they care about. They are fed, fat and happy.
Ah, puppy love. Is there anything more wonderful than a new puppy?