We had a surprise visitor to the house yesterday... not sure what to call him yet, but he's cute as a button. Lacy's leaning toward "Sully," after Capt. Chesley Sullenberger, who miraculously landed a commercial airliner in the Hudson River a year ago.
And it is pretty miraculous: Jamie's water breaks Saturday night. When nothing has come out by noon on Sunday, we think maybe it's a pseudopregnancy and there's no pups at all. Then, just when I leave to go to the bathroom at about 12:55 p.m., she delivers Pup 1 (right). He's a pale, chunky fellow with an appetite that just won't quit. He and Jamie spent the night irritating each other: the pup because he apparently needs milk like he needs oxygen, and Jamie because she's only got one baby to lick and nudge around the kitchen floor.
So we get all excited. A puppy! Sure, it's only one, but he's healthy! Besides, her other litters were one and two, respectively. She's not, as Lacy's mom says, Fertile Myrtle. The end of a great story, right?
Wrong.
Jamie spends much of Monday morning apparently in pain, scooting around the house and yard as if trying to force out a big poo. Wisely, Lacy and her mom decide to take her to the vet. The verdict? Drumroll... another puppy is in there! It was mixed news. We're certain that if Jamie hasn't delivered it yet, it's likely dead. But the vet gives us some shots to start labor and at least get it out of her.
Surprise, surprise. Pup 2 (left) joins us Monday afternoon. He's smaller, darker and notably less active than his one-day-old brother, but he's doing OK so far. He has trouble nursing -- we've gotten him to take a good suck only a couple of times -- but he seems to be growing stronger with time. Obviously, we're keeping a close eye on him.
So now we need advice on not just one, but two, names. Any suggestions?
Oh my goodness! Two pups. Name them Bingo and Jay-Z.
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