Puppy Paparazzi
July 10, 2003

Congratulations are in order. I am now a proud grandfather! Well, technically not “grandfather”—but our dog had puppies, so we have a new batch of “grand-pups!”

It was all very exciting, the night that she had them, but I think it was more stressful on my wife than it was for our dog, (which in turn, made it more stressful for me!)

Our dog’s name is Riley, and this was her first litter. Being her first, it was amazing to watch her as her instincts kicked in. Never having had puppies before, she knew exactly what to do and when to do it. She’s a good mama.

Unfortunately, my wife’s motherly instincts also kicked in. Instead of letting Riley alone and letting her handle the job, my wife kept trying to intervene, saying “she needs my help!” She even admitted that she might have read too many books on the subject. (I guess there is such a thing as too much knowledge.)

As each puppy was born, it was diagnosed with everything from rabies to fleas, before my wife eventually concluded that it was probably just a normal healthy pup. I think one of them even had ADD. No, wait-- That was me! I was ready to diagnose my wife with Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy.

I told her to give the book to our dog and let her do it herself. After all, she had the first one on her own, without our help, just fine. As a matter of fact, after number seven, I went to bed. My wife stayed up until all nine of them were born. But in the morning there were ten. Riley was probably saving that last one until after my wife left, just so she could have a private moment.

We should have known there were going to be ten. One of the little neighbor girls predicted there were going to be ten puppies, because when she counted Riley’s …um, …you-know-whats, --there were ten!

From my perspective, having puppies was not much different from when we had our own children. In both situations, I was there for moral support, but was not at all interested in playing an active role, (as if I would have known what to do anyway.) “Just stay out of the way!” I can do that.

But in both situations I had my camera. As a father, that’s my job: historian. I documented the whole thing. I literally had a digital camera in one hand and a camcorder in the other. If I had another hand I probably would have captured the moment on canvas using watercolors.

Between my wife playing Florence Nightingale and me taking more pictures than the paparazzi, I’m sure we made the experience both memorable and relaxing for Riley and her puppies-- at least one that she will not soon forget, (though she might try.)

It could have been worse. Our own kids could have been home, in which case we might have had more spectators than puppies. I’m sure Riley would have appreciated that.

On the other hand, it might not have been a problem. Judging from their reaction to watching the video, I’m not sure our kids would have remained in the room while Riley had her puppies. As they watched the playback, you would have thought they were looking into the sun-- squinting eyes and wrinkled faces. Our youngest son hid his face behind a pillow, barely peering out over the top in shock and awe.

At one point on the tape, when my wife reached in a helping hand (I’ll spare you the details), the kids offered a unanimous chorus of “No! Eeew! Gross!” (Hey! This might be a good deterrent to teenage promiscuity.)

But they do love the puppies, now that they are born. Everyone loves the puppies. Who doesn’t love a puppy? Everybody wants to see the puppies! Our original plan was to sell the puppies, but we’ve had so many people coming to see them that I’ve decided we can make more money by keeping them and charging admission. Extra, if you want to hold one.

Charles Schulz was right, “Happiness is a warm puppy.” Unless of course, you ARE a warm puppy!

. . . Photos of the PUPPIES!

© Copyright 2003 Glen Davis