Things are getting out of control here at the House of Maggie (Maggie the Dog, that is!)As my brother, Walter, said: "Do you think your kids know you didn't even go to this much trouble when they were born?"
Alas, it's true. And since MaggieDog shows only intermittent signs of producing anything for all my trouble (the occasional moan, an infrequent pace, the odd huff and puff) I may as well fill some time writing about the elaborate birthing room.
It turns out that MaggieHuman and MaggieDog do not agree on some things.
The birthing room has to be quiet and out of the way, so that mom and her pups won't be disturbed.
Human: clear out the dining room, as we seldom do things so delicate as dining. Stack the chairs elsewhere, and hang fabric over the door for privacy. Block off the french door windows so people can't stare.
Dog: Under the deck.
And then there's the question of surface. It has to be easy to keep clean.
Human: cover the entire dining room floor with tarp. And then, because tarp kind of crinkles when you walk on it, which might be disturbing to a dog, cover that with old blankets.
Dog: Wow, I like the look of that deck.
The birthing room should be warm, dark and closed in.
Human: Drape quilts over the dining room table, so that it's like a little cave. Perfect, because all the birthing implements (which rival those in a hospital emergency room once you put them all in one place) can be organized on the table.
Dog: It looks warm and dark under the deck. If you let me go under there I'll come right back. I promise.
The pups should be confined until they're old enough to explore.
Human: Borrow a plastic wading pool, line it with newspapers and old towels. Slide it under the dining room table so that it's all closed in and dark and warm, etc. (I crawled in to test it, and heck, even I wanted to have a baby in there!)
Dog: If you take me off the leash, I won't go under the deck. I promise. Just take me off for one minute.
So Maggie and I are at a standoff. I am determined not to let her go under the deck. She is determined not to go into the birthing room. What will happen when the time comes is a mystery.
2 comments:
This is hilarious...you seriously need to start some kind of a blog about all things I think lots of people would get a kick out of it...good luck with Maggie dog I'm waiting for the next installment.
Tami
Have faith..I once made a bed out of an old woodbox in the basement for my pregnant cat. During the mom-to-be's brief stops at the house that interrupted her eternal hunt for the not-so-elusive rodents that inhabited the local grain fields, I would continually put her in the box, and she would continually jump right out. Then one night, I was downstairs doing laundry and she jumped in the box on her own and sniffed around a bit, before jumping out and meowing to go outside. Early the next morning she was at the door meowing to come in. She headed straight to the basement and less than an hour later...the first kitten was born in my lovely kittursery!
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