JUST ONE

Story ID:	708
Written by:	Kathleene S Baker
Story type:	Family Memories
Location:	Plano Texas USA
Year:	1985
Person:	Maggie, Tiffany & litter

JUST ONE
By,
Kathleene S. Baker


I just knew Maggie was going to explode and her walk had become nothing more than a pitiful, clumsy waddle. She could no longer jump on the bed or couch for a siesta; she would stand, looking pitiful while peering over her shoulder until someone would give her a gentle boost.

When the time finally came, labor started very late at night and the tiny black schnauzers just kept on coming. After the first birth, I discovered I was not to be the only midwife for this thrilling event, as Tiffany, our other female schnauzer, felt sure she knew more about it than I did. No way was she allowing her best pal to go through such an ordeal alone. Tiff was mesmerized and hovered over the event like she’d “been there and done that” a dozen times. Not hardly! She paced, tried to push me out of her way, checked each new pup, and salivated constantly. Her hormones had evidently gone berserk, and her instincts told her exactly what the ruckus was all about.

By dawn we had six perfect babies being watched over by their mother—and Tiffany, a “wanna-be mother.” Luckily, Maggie trusted her completely and seemed to welcome her presence.

With Maggie in the kitchen begging for treats from my hubby, I tiptoed in to admire our snoozing two-day old litter. Whoa! Timing truly is everything. I rounded the corner just as Tiffany vanished under the love seat with a tiny babe, held properly by its scruff, I might add. The “wanna-be mama” had become a full-blown “pup-napper!”

I stayed out of view for a few moments to see if she planned to move the entire litter. Nope! Evidently she had decided five were plenty for Maggie, and just one little boy would fill her needs.

I called for my husband. “Jerry, I need you to come lift the front of the love seat.”

“Why? What’s under there?” He furrowed his brow.

“Tiffany is stashing things—just wait and see!” I snickered.

Up went the couch! Tiff simply glanced at us nonchalantly with her big, warm, loving eyes as she continued to wash her itty-bitty hostage. Well, I had to scold her a tad bit as I returned the baby to its littermates. I couldn’t have her abducting and hiding babies all over the house!

The two mothers delighted in raising the rowdy six-pack as a team. At times Maggie would leave them completely in Tiffany’s care and vanish for a much-needed nap. Tiff

was radiant when “playing mama,” except when a hungry pup would nuzzle her tummy. She perfected some very fancy footwork to avoid that part of motherhood.

Together, Maggie and Tiff taught the growing gang how to play. Several pups might be wrestling with their mother, while the others practiced tug-o-war with “wanna-be mama” using one of Jerry’s old socks. Our lives had not one quiet moment for eight weeks, and we reveled in the joy right along with all eight critters.

All too soon it was time for the little, black beauties to move on to their “forever” homes. I questioned prospective buyers until I’m surprised many of them didn’t hang up on me. After all, I was responsible for finding the very best home possible for each precious new life. Yet, with each departure it seemed someone had chiseled away a measure of bliss in our home.

A sense of melancholy crashed down around all of us when the last baby boy left this house. Very soon though, we added anguish to the emotional rollercoaster ride we thought had come to an end. For within days, a set of confusing and complicated events began unfolding.

A notice from the bank indicated the last buyer had given us a bad check. Furthermore, I discovered the woman had moved and changed jobs. That’s when I went into frantic, detective mode—and it’s a miracle she was ever located in a city the size of Dallas.

Parking in front of her home, we watched a lonely pup crying and pawing at the window. Neighbors told us that he was, for the most part, alone day and night. That was all we needed to hear! As soon as the owner arrived, we demanded return of the little fellow.

Ah—sweet success! The last puppy sold returned back home exactly two weeks after he had departed. What a night and what a reunion it was for those three dogs. They ran, chased, wrestled, and romped until collapsing. The three became one entangled, furry heap on the floor as they drifted off to La-La Land. They had expended enough energy in an hours time to light up a skyscraper!

Taking the reunited pack outside early the next morning, I noticed the sky appeared bluer, the birds were singing sweeter, and the clouds were dancing. I smiled.

We officially named our new family member Handsome Jack. There was really no discussion, it was understood—he’d not be going anywhere again. Ever! Besides which, he was the tiny, black baby that Tiffany had absconded with when he was two days of age. She had always wanted “just one,” and her wish finally came true. He was right back in our lives, where he had always belonged anyway…


©2006 Kathleene S. Baker
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