Just got back from the Vet where we again received the obvious news that dog’s pant when they are hot! OMG!!! He also reassured us that the dog would calm down and be less anxious in a couple of days. He, however, held out very little hope for me. I feel like an idiot, but a relieved idiot and I’ve made an ass of myself for lesser things. But, I have solemnly promised myself that I will make an effort to leave Roxanne alone to do her thing. I give myself twenty minutes.
Day 5 – Poor Roxanne. We have been adding to her misery without knowing it. The memory foam mattress has been capturing the heat she is generating and she has no way to cool down. It’s just as well, because now the wet goat smell has evolved into a dead goat smell, so the padding has to go. She is happiest with just newspaper and a couple of waterproof mattress pads, so bye-bye memory foam.
So far, Roxie seems to have plenty of milk, but the puppies have almost doubled their weight already. Her poor ole titties are pendulous and look sore as hell. She is at least a 38 quintuple D, which is pretty impressive, but they sag something wicked.
Mike pulled his back today moving the whelping box and, since he couldn’t sleep, he took puppy duty last night. When I woke up he asked me if I wanted to hear a funny story from 3 AM. When I agreed, he said “There are NO funny stories at 3 AM!”
Day 6 – How deeply sad is this? My son, John, offered to babysit the puppies on Monday so Mike and I could go out to lunch or just take a walk and I told him I didn’t think I was ready! Pathetic! When my last baby was born, I brought the baby home from the hospital, plopped the baby in my Mother-in-Law’s lap and went to Stop & Shop for groceries. The baby was John. He was two days old.
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