Pipsqueak is gone. I held her and petted her, and she eventually stopped breathing. She had a couple of gasps or convulsions after she stopped breathing as I held her, but she passed peacefully, just kind of fading away.
I kept holding her and petting her, until Splash started getting out of the whelping box. Not wanting Splash to be alarmed, I quickly wrapped Pipsqueak in a towel and took her out of the room before Splash could see her.
And then the oddest thing happened. Splash went outside and just started running around with a ball. She brought it to me and dropped it at my feet. I got the message. I threw the ball, and she leaped and ran with unbridled joy the likes of which I haven't seen in her since before the big snow that buried us in March. She ran so fast! She chased that ball with everything she had, and brought it back to me at a run, dropping it at my feet and demanding that I immediately throw it again. It was as if some weight was lifted from Splash. And it was so surreal, Splash chasing the ball and leaping in joy while I was crying and overcome with the loss of Pipsqueak.
I don't know what it all means, if anything, but I took it as a message of life and hope. That a single life is so terribly fragile, but that life itself is unstoppable, and remains joyful, and goes on no matter what.
I don't think Splash knows she has one less puppy. But she's happy. So maybe she was just waiting for Pipsqueak's soul to pass, and now that the weight is lifted she found her joy again. When I told Theresa of Pipsqueak's passing, she revealed that Splash had pushed her away yesterday. Splash knew.
I stopped throwing the ball for Splash after a short bit, because she's still healing and I didn't want her to be injured. But it was quite a sight. Theresa did great. She did everything she knew how to do. And most important, she gave Pipsqueak comfort and love as she faded away.
We do all this out in the open, sharing it with you all, because we think that's best. Breeding is not always easy, or joyful, or fun. Sometimes it's hard. And sometimes it's tragic.
There are still seven puppies to love, and ten more on the way.
Life will not be denied.
I kept holding her and petting her, until Splash started getting out of the whelping box. Not wanting Splash to be alarmed, I quickly wrapped Pipsqueak in a towel and took her out of the room before Splash could see her.
And then the oddest thing happened. Splash went outside and just started running around with a ball. She brought it to me and dropped it at my feet. I got the message. I threw the ball, and she leaped and ran with unbridled joy the likes of which I haven't seen in her since before the big snow that buried us in March. She ran so fast! She chased that ball with everything she had, and brought it back to me at a run, dropping it at my feet and demanding that I immediately throw it again. It was as if some weight was lifted from Splash. And it was so surreal, Splash chasing the ball and leaping in joy while I was crying and overcome with the loss of Pipsqueak.
I don't know what it all means, if anything, but I took it as a message of life and hope. That a single life is so terribly fragile, but that life itself is unstoppable, and remains joyful, and goes on no matter what.
I don't think Splash knows she has one less puppy. But she's happy. So maybe she was just waiting for Pipsqueak's soul to pass, and now that the weight is lifted she found her joy again. When I told Theresa of Pipsqueak's passing, she revealed that Splash had pushed her away yesterday. Splash knew.
I stopped throwing the ball for Splash after a short bit, because she's still healing and I didn't want her to be injured. But it was quite a sight. Theresa did great. She did everything she knew how to do. And most important, she gave Pipsqueak comfort and love as she faded away.
We do all this out in the open, sharing it with you all, because we think that's best. Breeding is not always easy, or joyful, or fun. Sometimes it's hard. And sometimes it's tragic.
There are still seven puppies to love, and ten more on the way.
Life will not be denied.
