Potatoes with Legs

BA and I recently spent four weeks fostering a momma pit bull and her litter for an animal shelter in the region. Her litter of five potatoes with legs would be her spitting image if not for the randomness of the spots.

Momma was a sweetheart. She was also deaf. There was a steep learning curve for us on how to communicate with her. She understood the sign language for sit and stay. Occasionally a miscommunication of arm flaying and hand gestures combined with her serious stubborn streak could be an issue. For the most part she and I got along wonderfully. 

My wife and I have had experience fostering momma cats and their litters. That was over twenty years ago. I assumed it would be a similar experience, only the animals were bigger. ........... Right ........... That was my first wrong assumption of more than a few to come. 

My first hint that fostering a dog and puppies was going to be different was when the nice folks at the shelter loaded 70 pounds of dry puppy chow, almost 5 cases of canned wet puppy food, and some transitional food for when switching the little bastids from weaning to solid food. Last but not least, they threw in a scale so we could keep track of the weights of the potatoes as they changed from deaf and blind fur covered individual metabolisms into an evil, but cute multi-headed monster with twenty legs and five assholes who dedicated every waking moment to driving me and BA bonkers.

Our first clue we were not ready for this was when we tried to introduce our dog, Maggie, to Momma pit bull. I am so grateful I had braced myself and the leash holding Momma. She attempted to tear my arm off trying to attack Magggie. No blood was spilled, just some frayed nerves. That incident was all on me and BA. We did not consider the protective impulse of a female dog who was actively nursing a brood. Sadly, it spoiled any future effort to bring them together.

What amazed me was the diet the shelter had set up for me to follow. Momma was to have three meals a day. In just shy of 4 weeks, she ate almost 35 pounds of dry food and 28 cans of wet food. The shit piles she dropped after each meal had to be record breakers. But she was a nursing mom and eating for six. The shelter assured us she needed that much nutrition.

I found the experience to be both endearing and extremely stressful. Momma was a good mother. She cleaned up their messes and their little bodies for the first three weeks. But when they became mobile and their eyesight was beginning to come into focus, she hesitated to nurse them like she used to. She spent longer periods outside the nursing room, choosing instead to lounge on a bed and snooze to her heart's content. 

That was when we began to feed the little wigglers a gruel of canned puppy chow mixed with some water. Had we not been so integral to the comedy that followed, we might have enjoyed it more. But I have to say, a litter of puppies weighing approximately 5 pounds each is a situation of chaos that is not remedied, just survived.

I returned Momma and her pups to the shelter. A vet tech took charge of the puppies and another handled Momma. I helped unload all the extra food, gear and carriers. On one trip inside to the area where Momma and her pups were to be set up, I stopped to have final look at the gang. All of them were hanging out at the gate looking at me. 

It has been awhile since I have felt that amount of guilt over doing the right thing.

Later ...................................

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For the musical choice today, I let Google guide me. I punched in "Metal Music about Puppies" .......   

And the first choice is the winner! Here is some Dog Metal and the real crowd pleaser, "The Bubbas / Who poo-poo'd in my house".

It's short and sweet with a heavy bass beat. Up to wow might be a tad brutal.