Thanks for coming back for second episode of Puppies to the Rescue. If you missed the first installment you can check it out here.
A short hour after saying yes to fostering seven puppies I had collected the pups and all of their paraphernalia and headed for home. All seven puppies where in a large crate and strapped into my back seat. It took me about 30 seconds to realize I would be making the entire trip home with the windows rolled down even thought it was a brisk 52 degrees outside.
The smell was so overpowering I could hardly keep from gagging. Who knew that a few puppies could create such a stink? But the drive home gave me time to plan my strategy.
I was extremely relieved to see my son’s car was at home as I pulled into the driveway. I was in need of reinforcements and my son Michael and his friend Simon stepped up to the challenge.
My plan was to keep the puppies in the garage and wash them one at a time in the laundry room and then the clean pup would be whisked out to my breakfast nook. We took the crate out of the car and placed it in the garage near the back door and started.
While we were bathing the first puppy my son looked at me and said, “You know Mom, this has got disaster written all over it. Can I name the pups after The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?” I had no idea what the names of the Horsemen were but I would have agreed to just about anything as the smell of stinky puppies morphed into the stench of wet stinky puppy as I began wetting the first pup.
For those of you who, like me have a limited knowledge of the horsemen, they are traditionally named Famine, Pestilence, War and Death. I guess I was expecting regular names so I was a bit taken back when my History geek of a son pronounced the first pup, Famine but I was desperate for help.
When he pronounced the second puppy, Pestilence, I cringed but since I was already planning on renaming them I decided to let my son and his friend “think” they were naming the pups. It was the least I could do after Simon cleaned up the runny dog diarrhea. Thankfully there were only four horsemen and the guys decided to go with historical names for the remaining puppies.
Puppies five and six became Leonardo da Vinci and Machiavelli and I gave thanks that the naming process had made a turn for the better.
Puppy number seven was the smallest of the lot and blond so she was dubbed Joan of Arc, which turned out to be a very appropriate name for this feisty little girl.
Dinner followed the baths and after cleaning up seven pee pee puddles and poop it was obvious that we needed to work on house training. None of the puppies seemed to grasp the concept of the piddle pad and the ones that I had laid out where mistaken for chew toys and rapidly shred into numerous pieces.
While the bathing process had worn out us humans the puppies where invigorated by it and spent the next 40 minutes happily romping around their temporary home in the breakfast nook. It was Machiavelli who was the first to put himself to bed in the crate and he was followed quickly by Leonardo. The others had to be “put to bed” but they all promptly fell asleep.
After a quick shower I too put myself to bed vowing that I would never again foster puppies but promising myself I would enjoy this once in a life time event. I drifted off to sleep thinking up new names for Famine, Pestilence, War and Death.
I hope to see you all back for the next installment of this adventure, Puppies to the Rescue.
Thank you for reading,