Puppies

Last week, on the 26th of October, Doctor's rottweiler Cheva had 6 puppies. At the birth Cheva failed to eat off the amniotic sacs, resulting in the tragic suffocation and death of the first puppy. Luckily, John and Jackson were present for the rest of the deliveries and preformed the appropriate duties for the negligent mother. It was an exciting day.

The puppies are now a week old, and although their eyes aren't open yet, they are fat and roly poly and oh-so-precious. We love to hold them and rub ther fuzzy tummies and play with the rolls of velvet pudding on the backs of their necks. They make funny noises and we hear them at night, crawling over each other and sqeaking and squawking.

I was sick again and in bed all day on Sabbath and several times Jackson showed up at my door with an armful of squirmy puppies.

"It's time for pet therapy!" he'd announce, and my mat would be filled with their cuddly fatness.