I was born today.
It wasn’t as easy as I’d thought it would be. I mean, after hanging out in the dark for the past few months, crammed in with everyone else, I was ready for a change, but I had no idea just how big the change was going to be. One day you’re safe and warm, floating in your mother’s tummy and the next—well, you’re freezing, hungry, and more than a little bit scared. This wasn’t the kind of change I’d been thinking about!
The hard part is not being able to see anything. My eyes just won’t open, but I figured out that I can sense my mom and the other pups who are my brothers and sisters. We lay in a big pile in this thing that I think is called a box. Every now and then someone steps on my head. I wonder if they are as afraid or as cold as me.
There’s a funny little ache in my belly, too. I can’t quite identify what it is, but I don’t like it.
I do like snuggling up to Momma, though. She seems a little pooped out today. Maybe giving birth isn’t any easier than being born.
Think I’ll take a nap for awhile.
*****
“Oh, Mommy, look at that one!”
The voice wakes me and sounds very excited. Something happens that I can’t quite control. My rear end begins to jiggle from side to side.
“Oh, now look what its doing! It’s trying to wag its tail!”
The voice is high pitched, and even though my hearing is still not that great, it causes another reaction in me. My rear end does that weird jiggle thing again.
“Can I have that one? Please?”
That one? Does the voice mean me? A little fear flutters in my puppy heart. I don’t want to go anywhere that’s away from my Momma. Better hide! I nudge up closer to Momma and she licks my head. All around me, my brothers and sisters are trying to nurse, too busy being hungry to have any anxieties about that voice. I copy their movements, and lo and behold, that funny achy feeling in my tummy goes away.
From far away, I hear a second voice say, “No, Olivia. Puppies that are just born have to stay with their moms for a few weeks. They aren’t ready to be apart from them yet.”
“But when he’s ready—then can I have him?” Olivia asks. “I just know he’ll be the perfect little wiener dog!”
“Dachshund. They’re called dachshunds. And we’ll see. Dachshund puppies have a tendency to be mischievous.”
The other voice, Olivia’s, gets closer to me, as if she is leaning over the box where Momma and the others in my family are resting.
“I’ll call you Oliver,” she whispers and even though my ears aren’t completely opened yet, I hear her. “And we’ll be great friends.”
For some reason my rear end starts to wag again.
****
I consider myself a well educated puppy. I paid attention in the womb to the soft rumbling voice of the outside world. Now that I am older (several hours older, in fact), I remember that one of the voices I heard on the inside was that of the little girl, Olivia. It is because of her that I come out of the womb with such a developed appreciation already for life and words. She just learned to read a few months ago and practiced her new found skills on Schatze—my mother. So I know all about really important things—like a boat named the Titanic and how Selena Gomez is the greatest singer ever. I also know all about The Hungry Caterpillar. That must have been Olivia’s favorite book because she read it a bunch of times to Momma. I sympathize with that little caterpillar, though. I’m hungry all the time, too.
I really think this type of knowledge puts me above the pack. I am a superior dachshund with a flair for learning. Now if I could just open my eyes…
“Mommy, when will Oliver be able to open his eyes?” Olivia asks her mother.
Good question, kid. Thanks for asking.
“In a few weeks,” her mother says.
“Will they be blue or brown?”
“Probably brown.”
Brown eyes! That sounds great! It must be written somewhere that the smartest people and dogs have brown eyes. Now if only I knew what brown looked like…
“When can I pick him up?” Olivia asks.
“Not for a while. Schatze is very protective of her babies. Notice how she growls softly if we get too close to her box? She’s warning us to back off,” Olivia’s mother said.
As if to demonstrate the point, my momma growls slightly. I can tell she doesn’t mean any harm by it, but I snuggle closer to her, glad that she is protecting me.
“Besides, you have to be careful when you pick up this kind of dog,” Olivia’s mother says.
“They grow to have long backs, and if you don’t pick them up the right way, you could hurt them.”
That doesn’t sound good. I sure hope someone teaches Olivia how to pick me up the right way. Next to me, one of the other puppies stretches its legs and pops me in the head. Ouch!
“Oh, did you see that?” Olivia squeals. “They’re playing!”
Playing? That doesn’t seem right. I thought playing was where you goofed around with games or tugged on a rope. While I’m thinking about that, the other puppy pops me in the head again. The pain is considerably worse this time.
“How cute!”
What’s so cute about getting the tar beat out of you? Though I can’t open my eyes, I strike back in the puppy’s general direction. He makes a little noise and satisfaction fills me.
Ha! I can give as good as I get!
****
I had a bad scare later in the day.
I woke up from my fourth or fifth nap (really, whose counting?) and found that I was alone. Or at least I thought I was. I didn’t sense my mom or the other pups. The silence felt suffocating, and I made a new noise. It rose from within me and slipped out into a tiny, little whimper. At first, the sound surprised me. Had I actually made it? But then as I rolled around, unable to open my eyes, it felt right. I whimpered again, scared.
Where was my mother?
Could she have left me? How would I eat? And my brothers and sisters? What had happened to them? Was this because I swatted my brother back? Oh no. I would be alone. I just knew it. No more milk to drink. No more warm puppy bodies to snuggle with.
The thought made me so sad that I whimpered again.
The sound drifted up and out of the box. It hung in the space above me, a sad little note of what was to be my new life. It punctuated the deep sadness I felt at this new and unexpected loss. And just when I’d been born, too!
No! This was silly. I could be better. I could not take up so much space in the box we stayed in. I would work harder on keeping my paws to myself. My eyes would open soon, and then I would be the best puppy ever, the kind of puppy that Momma would be proud of. I’d take dog obedience lessons if I had to!
And that’s when I heard her. Momma’s soft bark that said, “I’m here, Oliver. Don’t worry little one. Use your nose to guide you.”
My nose? Oh yeah. That was that thing on the front of my face that stuck out and always felt cold. I wiggled it experimentally and was rewarded with a sneeze. Yuck! I tried again and took a big sniff. Momma’s soft scent floated to me—warm and earthy. My nose stretched towards it, and I crawled on my belly close to the smell. As I did so, I could hear the soft sounds of sleeping puppies once again.
They hadn’t left me. I’d just rolled away from them while sleeping.
“That’s it,” my mother yipped softly. “Come back to sleep. You are a restless little thing, already moving away to explore the world. Don’t be in such a hurry, Oliver.”
I sniffed again, taking in the smell of the other puppies, hearing their gentle snores. Someone whimpered, maybe having a bad dream of their own. As I crawled into the middle, I heard Momma’s tail thump up and down, and my back side wiggled in response. What the heck was that exactly? No matter. It felt natural and seemed to convey the most important thing a puppy can say, “I love you.”
Safe in the middle of the pile, I thought, “Ahhh…so good to be safe. So good to be unafraid.”
Sleep began to embrace me again.
What a good first day of life.
****
(…to be continued)
Related posts:
- Puppy Tails – Oliver Thinks Outside the Box
- Puppy Tails – Oliver Meets the Vet
- Puppy Tails – Oliver Chews
- Puppy Tails – Oliver Protects His Family
- Puppy Tails – Oliver Gets Fleas
