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…

As I sat down to write this first entry, the radio, on in the background, informed me that the Director of the film the Dam Busters had recently died — now that might seem rather irrelevant to a blog about a litter of puppies, but it’s not! Dora’s Grandmother Fee was a German dog and was trained for her German working tests at one of the dams/reservoirs bombed by the British in 1943. Perhaps it is significant that her Granddaughter will have her first litter of puppies, to a German dog, during the RAF’s centenary year. Fee was a very special girl who came to Britain by chance and good luck, she had two litters, and those of us lucky enough to live with her offspring know how amazing her children and grandchildren are. Here’s hoping her Great Grandchildren follow in her footsteps!
 
Well… we are into the last week of pregnancy. Mandy came over this afternoon and helped me put the finishing touches to the whelping box. I am so proud of that box… it’s amazing what you can do with several pieces of plywood, some softwood and a box of screws! Particular thanks must go to Finn, my extremely able 18-year-old son who acted as joinery assistant, general factotum and handyman — here’s hoping you’re around to make cups of tea when Dora goes into labour! And Dora… well… she’s blooming. Pregnancy must suit her because is she looking good and seems very content. She’s not quite as fast on the sand dunes as she was a few weeks ago, but is still enjoying getting out and about: a very social dog our Dora. She is currently lying at my feet, waiting for her tea — food and Dora go hand-in-hand, particularly at the moment. So on that expectant note I will leave you and go and feed my ever-expanding, black and white companion.
 
PS — Mandy took the photos as I am a rubbish photographer!