Lesson Number One: Expect the unexpected. Puppies will be behind closed doors. I swung the door open last night and there were two of them perched behind the door. They set up a wail. Cindy was excited that I was home and gave them no attention. I can't see them but their wails leave no doubt that they are there. Where are the others? In the dog house, thankfully. Getting in the door without causing the two explorers serious harm was tricky but I made it.
Lesson Number Two: Cindy is mighty strong to be so small. I decided that it would be a good night to take pictures of the courthouse in all of its decorated glory because it was so warm. Got Cindy's leash (which sent her into spasms of joy) and off we went. Rather, she pulled and I tried to slow her down. Good thing she's not a big dog; I'd be flat on my face. The square was, what else, deserted at that hour and, I confess, it gave me some pause on the wisdom of trekking up there at that time of night. But I learned something in the process.
I've been hearing Christmas carols late at night and was convinced that I was hearing things or else the church was the source. It's the courthouse. They amplify the music and it plays all night. Can you imagine that in the big city? My church, in DC, had to stop ringing the bell at noon and on Sunday mornings years ago because of the neighborhood protest. Just think of the outrage expressed by the new, gentrified neighbors. If they protest parking in the neighborhood, albeit they saw the churches on every corner before moving in, you can just hear what they'd say about music--and all night?
Lesson Number Three: Cindy can no longer be trusted to run out and do her thing unsupervised. You must be with her at all times because she is hot to trot. I see why I am playing wet nurse to 5 little rug rats. Girlfriend can pull a disappearing act within a matter of seconds.
Put her outside and, because it was so warm, went for a cup of coffee to drink outside. Yep, it was just that warm. Not even five minutes and she was gone. Gone, I tell you. Not in the front, side, or back. It is 6:30 a.m., and I'm going through the routine of calling her name and clapping. Thank goodness there are very few homes around. I can picture that on Gresham Place. I'd be shot. The little hussy is nowhere to be found. I finally give up. Oh, there she is up the post office. Not. It was a cat. What can I say, they both have black spots on a white background and the sun wasn't up. Stand outside a little longer with all kind of thoughts racing through my head. The train going through didn't help things at all. Visions of her being struck by the morning train or a passing car became vivid possibilities. What's this? A flash of white coming through the trees across the street? Could it be...it is. Jezebel, herself, sauntering along without a care in the world. You are getting fixed, young lady, as soon as possible. And, you are on punishment.
Lesson Number Four: The pups are almost ready to meet the world. Almost. Here they come, one after another, out of the dog house. Look like the Seven Dwarfs. Cindy is vying for my attention; they can get into any corner they want to. Let's try them outside. Now, this is a new experience. Cindy is trying to ride herd. Her hands, or should I say paws, are full. Everybody is mewling and going in a different direction but not too far from a brother. Try a little puppy chow. You'd think Big Boy, who has the thickest coat, would be on it. NOT! It's Runt and one of the black ones who have no problem adjusting to this new adventure. The others aren't ready. Back inside. They find the entrance to their quarters and have more trouble getting back inside than they had getting out. It's a struggle but they make it. All that exercise requires a nap so they cuddle up and knock out. One makes noises while he sleeps; one growls and give puppy barks. I thought it was Big Boy but learned that it is one of the black ones. Looks like I'm going to need a truckload of paper. Runt has been spoken for. There are 4 left...any takers?