Did you know large breeds of dogs can have up to TWELVE puppies? Twelve. Thats "doce" in Spanish, in case you didn't catch the sheer terror in my voice the first time around.
Much to my shock and dismay, Precious hasn't been so sweetly. We had a deal- she kept her dress down and I would spare her the pain of the "snipity snip"
The joke's on me...At least until it's time to deliver...
After I had time to adjust to the fact I was about to have more costly dependents and all my pending travel plans were just shot straight to hell, I have finally let minimal excitement set in. I mean, when is the last time you saw an ugly puppy?
In leiu of recent revelations, I've made significant changes to senorita preggo's daily habits. For starters, an increase in caloric consumption. I've found even the most "finicky" eater has a soft spot for dog food smothered in warm cream of chicken soup...but if it's cold, you can forget it.
The porker on the other hand, doesn't have the first quam about eating three times a day. In fact, she's lobbying for a midnight snack, but I'm standing my ground. Under normal circumstances, it takes an act of congress to get the fat little angel out of bed anytime after breakfast, but make no mistake about it, break out the chicken soup, and she's on her way.
So there you have it, pregnant, porker, and soon to be pauper. Does it get any more poetic than that?
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