Story and photographs by Nancy Gallimore
“Might be bred.”
The words stood out on the paperwork like a beacon piercing the fog.
Glancing down at my new spotted charge, the word might quickly turned to is as my increasingly overwhelmed brain registered her plump belly. Jim, my partner in life and in dog craziness, had just arrived home with the two adult females and three 12-week-old puppies that our Dalmatian rescue had saved from life in a puppy mill. Adding five foster dogs to our already busy home was a lot. The prospect of adding who knows how many more was numbing.
But as we do, as all animal rescuers do, we put our heads down and got to work welcoming the dogs and figuring out the hows, whens, and wheres. No need to question why as three sets of brown eyes, two blue eyes, and one charming pup with one of each color looked up questioningly into our faces. It was our job to make their lives infinitely better.
Thankfully, an amazing friend and experienced puppy foster, Rylee, volunteered to take mom-to-be Peggy, named in honor of the benefactor who had supported her rescue. Big sigh of relief on our front because fostering a mom with newborn puppies requires a specific setup and a lot of work. Peggy was moved to her comfy maternity home just a few days before we suspected her puppies might arrive.
This is the point where the foster brain kicks in full steam to focus on day-to-day tasks. Have the mom checked over by the veterinarian. Settle her in to her whelping box. Gather blankets, piddle pads, towels, and other necessary supplies. Check on momma a thousand times a day. Watch for signs. Be ready.
Lending a Little Help
Peggy went into labor on a Friday afternoon and delivered what looked like four healthy little white polar bears on her own, in perfect form. At seven years of age and having spent her life in a commercial puppy mill, she was no rookie, and her puppies were clean, warm, and nursing with great gusto. Peggy seemed relaxed and content. All was well with the happy new family.
But no, all was not actually well. Rylee’s experience told her that there were more pups still to come, yet Peggy’s body seemed to have decided that four was quite enough. After a reasonable amount of time supervising Peggy for signs of more contractions, we knew we had a problem. So after a quick call with the veterinarian, four tiny squirming bodies and one watchful mom were loaded into my Jeep to head to the emergency hospital.
Dr. Steven Hodges of Oklahoma Veterinary Specialists confirmed that Peggy still had some work to do. Because Peggy and the yet-to-emerge puppies were not in any distress, we agreed to give her a little medically induced encouragement and some time. Three hours and a few doses of oxytocin later, two more healthy puppies
arrived. Would a puppy-mill operator have noticed this problem and acted to save mom and babies? Doubtful. I’m so grateful to Rylee and Dr. Hodges.
Mom and her perfect little family, four boys and two girls, were bundled back to the peace and quiet of their cozy foster setup. There they settled into nature’s routine — eat, sleep, poop, pee, repeat, repeat, repeat. Meanwhile, the humans shifted into full-care mode.
On Rylee’s agenda were strict supervision of mom and her as-yet spotless family, lots of mandatory puppy snuggling, and so much laundry. So very much laundry.
My job was to keep food and supplies stocked as needed. To schedule necessary vet visits. To visit the precious family as often as I could. And to start opening the floodgates of applications for potential homes.
The puppies grew. Peggy continued to be an amazing mom. Black spots filtered in through the snow-white puppy coats as shiny little eyes opened and peered about. Squeals of hunger were followed by grunts of contentment and eventual quiet slumber. Their days were routine, calm, and easy. Clearly, these were the best conditions Peggy had ever known as a doting mother.
And Rylee’s job grew right along with the pups. Nonstop cleaning. Constant attention and handling to ensure well-adjusted puppies. Constant support, love, and praise for momma Peggy. And did I mention the cleaning?
At five weeks of age, the puppies were eating a somewhat solid diet of mush and relying a bit less on their mother’s milk, much to Peggy’s delight. The family then moved from the sanctuary of their nursery to our home so Jim and I could work to socialize them to people, sights, and sounds as well as get to know each little personality to facilitate successful placements at an appropriate age.
At the same time, the puppies needed appointments for checkups and initial shots as well as special hearing testing. The Dalmatian breed is genetically prone to deafness, with 22 percent of puppies hearing in only one ear and about 8 percent completely deaf. Hearing status is something a puppy mill ignores, but it is an important bit of knowledge for responsible breeders and rescues.
Finding That Special Someone
We hit the six-week mark with our now bouncy, playful, adorable bunch. All tasks on the to-do list had been checked to date, with one big checkmark looming. Determine which puppy would go to which home. So many people think they want a puppy, but careful screening would be required to make sure each prospective adopter was a good fit for a puppy and the specific traits of a growing Dalmatian. They are amazing dogs in the right homes, but no breed of dog is right for everyone, and it is a rescue’s job to get the matches right.
And this is where I get to flip the camera around. I get to invite approved families to meet the puppies to see the “click”
happen when that one puppy sighs with contentment in a special person’s arms. I get to bear witness to the moment when prospective owners get that first puppy-breath-scented kiss on the nose, and they just know. This is the one. It’s the magical moment when a new chapter in life for both puppy and human has an introductory paragraph written.
I love this moment. By the time I let someone come visit, it means I am certain that person will give one of our babies the best possible life. It means it’s almost time for the rescuers to step to the sidelines, always available to provide support, enjoy updates, applaud accomplishments.
Peggy’s life will forever change for the better as well. She will never have to have puppies again. She was a great mom, but after years of litter after litter in less than ideal conditions, we will give her the retirement she so richly deserves. We made that promise to this sweet momma, who is safe with us until she melts into a new person’s arms. And then we’ll celebrate flipping the camera around once again as we watch someone fall in love with Peggy.
I become incredibly sentimental as each foster dog leaves our home for a new beginning. I think of the amazing dogs who have profoundly touched my life, several of them at my feet as I write, and revel in the knowledge that our rescue gets to play a part in matchmaking new lifelong bonds for someone else.
For a couple more weeks, we will stay on
course cleaning up poop, washing blankets and bowls, and watching clumsy babies learn to play. We will thoroughly enjoy the “job” of teaching the puppies how to be gentle with those little shark teeth, how to snuggle, how to be brave in their rapidly changing worlds.
As 2021 winds down, the puppies will be ready for new adventures. One by one, our work with this Dalmatian family will end, and we’ll pass the torch. New families will have messes to clean, puppy antics to laugh at, training classes to attend, cozy naps to enjoy. They’ll have chilly morning potty outings. Toys everywhere. A million photos on their phones. A lifetime of love, challenges, and fun will bloom from that first little hello. That mental image is the very best part of our job as rescuers.
Soon our home will be a little emptier as other hearts open and fill to the brim. We will take first photos of excited new faces hugging their precious puppies close. How fitting that these babies will start their journeys in the hopeful glow of the new year. With our focus forward, I think 2022 is going to be a great year … six times over.
