I’m not sure where time is going at the moment. There don’t seem to be enough hours in the day, but, as a friend pointed out, if there were more they would only get filled with ‘other stuff’ and you would still feel ‘time short’ — this is, I fear, true. Anyway it turns out that preparing for a birth, or at least any birth that is occurring in your house, requires quite a lot of sorting, clearing and cleaning! In many ways this is very cathartic and I have found a number of things I didn’t even know I’d lost. Like the soil rake, which, had I remembered its existence, would have been very useful when levelling the mound of soil left over from laying the slabs outside the backdoor! Mind you, rediscovering the soil rake is nothing compared to finding, a few months ago, the lost, very lost, Macbook under the seat cushions on the sofa — that, frankly, was a minor miracle!
Most of the morning was spent outside gardening. Both Dora and Scout enjoy a bit of gardening, though I have yet to train them to do anything remotely useful. Constantly dropping a ball into the weed trug, in the hope that I will throw it, is not helpful! Dora, who could, from certain angles, be mistaken for a beached whale, spent most of her time basking in the sun, though she did also chase Scout round the garden, play rough with him, dance on two legs round the apple tree (she was telling the birds off) and hunt for mice in the wood pile. I am torn between stopping these antics and allowing her to be herself — I want her to be happy, to enjoy this final week of freedom. She didn’t ask for this and giving birth is not risk free, nor is it without pain — as any of you who have had children can attest! So fingers crossed everything goes ok. What is lovely, is feeling the puppies move, they are kicking quite hard now, and when Dora is stretched out on the floor you can see the ‘inmates’ practising their drop kicks and jostling for position. As I sit here in almost complete silence — all I can hear is Dora breathing (plus the occasional sigh) and the noise of wood pigeons in the distance — I am aware that very soon the house will be filled with the mewing of new-born puppies. Guess I need to make the most of the silence while I can…
Most of the morning was spent outside gardening. Both Dora and Scout enjoy a bit of gardening, though I have yet to train them to do anything remotely useful. Constantly dropping a ball into the weed trug, in the hope that I will throw it, is not helpful! Dora, who could, from certain angles, be mistaken for a beached whale, spent most of her time basking in the sun, though she did also chase Scout round the garden, play rough with him, dance on two legs round the apple tree (she was telling the birds off) and hunt for mice in the wood pile. I am torn between stopping these antics and allowing her to be herself — I want her to be happy, to enjoy this final week of freedom. She didn’t ask for this and giving birth is not risk free, nor is it without pain — as any of you who have had children can attest! So fingers crossed everything goes ok. What is lovely, is feeling the puppies move, they are kicking quite hard now, and when Dora is stretched out on the floor you can see the ‘inmates’ practising their drop kicks and jostling for position. As I sit here in almost complete silence — all I can hear is Dora breathing (plus the occasional sigh) and the noise of wood pigeons in the distance — I am aware that very soon the house will be filled with the mewing of new-born puppies. Guess I need to make the most of the silence while I can…
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