To give you a bit of background informatinon so you'll understand this birthing story, our Decker Terrier, Mischief, was bred in May to Margaret and Chet's decker, Burz's Kerzon. I fondly refer to Mischief most of the time as "Mizz Fairchild" because she is quite the epitome of "the chosen one". Bonnie, our 100% decker and I take a back seat to this one in Ben G.'s eyes and "Mizz Fairchild" knows it! You know exactly what I'm talking about--I'll bet you've got one, too! Also let me say, we're no strangers to litters. Ben G. raised Fox Hounds for years and our Lab just had pups on Valentine's Day. So now having briefed you, you've got the picture!
The chosen one is due and we're confident we understand the normal process. I mean, dogs normally have their litters at night, worse case scenario in a chosen place rather than their whelping box, they eat the placenta breaking the sac, clean the pup up, let it nurse until the next one arrives and the process is repeated. Right? WRONG!!
At 11:30 in the morning the call comes from Ben G., "Mischief has just had her first pup!" I raced home, excited, picturing my little "Mizz Fairchild" curled up with her baby, licking it lovingly until the next one comes. Imagine my surprise when Mischief greets me at the door and I find Ben G. and the pup in the hallway!. "Huh? What's happening?" I wonder. Mischief's pacing, the pup is crying, and the next thing I know a baby is being plopped out on the bedroom floor similar to an egg being laid. Ben G. asks if this is normal and I muttered something to the effect that I had heard of women giving birth squatting. But normal? Not to me! To make matters worse, we found ourselves acting as midwives, breaking the sac and cleaning the pup up! Normal!? Heck no!! At this point I looked up at Ben G. and said, "Lawsy, Mizz Scalette, I don't knows nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies"! My big, abled man looked down and said, "You know more than I do; you're doing fine.
When everything was said and done, we had four little healthy, yelping, squirming, wanting to nurse pups (after she dropped them all over the house like a chicken laying eggs) with "Mizz Fairchild" just sitting there looking at them with that curious look that only the owner of a "rattie" knows. "Mizz Fairchild" then turns, looks up at us with questions in her eyes--What is this? What am I suppose to do? Yo! Where's the Nannie? Sorry Mizz Fairchild but you are the one that’s going to take care of these little ones !!!
You'll be glad to know the "chosen one" did figure it out and is being a wonderful Mommy (in here whelping box by the way) to her two boys and two girls. Ben G. and I, obviously, survived the ordeal and hope Bonnie will be giving us a litter soon that's more normal--at least to our way of thinking.
This is written just in case you end up with a "Mizz Fairchild" giving birth so you won't have to exclaim, "Lawsy, Mizz Scalette, I don't knows nothin' 'bout birthin'' no babies!"