The Puppies Are Nine Weeks Old Today and I Have Lost My Mind It Is Gone

A week and a half ago, the puppies had their first trip to the veterinarian since the day they were born. As I carried them in, I considered how much heavier they were than they had been that first day and felt like a farmer taking his prize pumpkin to the fair. Everyone oohed and ahhed, and I felt proud. But I've been so tired. Today, my mom sat alone with the puppies just long enough for me to pay some bills, and when I came back, she said, "I don't know how you've been doing this!" 

In the beginning, most of my exhaustion over the puppies came from worrying about them and trying to keep them from being suffocated in their sleep, and also from taking care of Ginger, who was a very demanding nursing mother (eating, drinking, pooping and peeing for four, 24 hours a day). Now it's because the little ones are running, jumping, biting, barking, escaping, eating, pooping and peeing more than ever.

Not that they'll let go of their babyish ways. Here they are nursing at seven weeks, even though they were capable of eating dry food (they kept at it until eight weeks and five days):

Ginger fights with the babies a lot. It used to be strictly playful fight training, but more and more it's to keep them from nursing or, as we suspect, out of jealousy (kicking her out of the room only makes her angrier):

See baby girl coming to the defense of her brother? (If you look closely, you can see her crazy-eyes.):

I ALMOST FORGOT TO TELL YOU: we named the puppies. My mom named Spot "Joey," after the character on "Friends." My sister named the black puppy "Maxwell" after Maxwell Sheffield on "The Nanny." I named the little brown puppy "Lizzie" because I thought she should have a little British girl's name, and Lizzie came to mind.

Here, Lizzie sits on my mom's lap while Joey readies himself to spring and bark at her. See his tail wagging?:

The puppies love to play tug-of-war. I like to get them to play with each other, all three on the same rag, because they make hilarious high-pitched growling sounds, almost like a beehive. Here it's just me and Max, though:

Thank goodness they still sleep, or I would be dead:

Here's more nursing. You know you're too big for it when you can stand on your back legs:

"So... do you come here often?":

Part of the difficulty with weaning the babies is that Ginger steals their food. For a while, I thought spoon-feeding the puppies wet food would encourage them to eat, but Ginger just steals it:

Ginger fights with Max more than she does with the other puppies. Maybe twice a day she'll bite him too hard and he'll run crying:

This time, he just stole the food dish instead:

Lizzie biting her brother Joey (they have grown to be about the same size (smaller than Max) and are perfect sparring partners):

Max retreats to his favorite place to gnaw on the food dish:

Lizzie still enjoys biting belt loops:

And Joey still loves to chew on shoes:

Here I finally got a picture of how big and clear and shiny their eyes get when they nurse. (I'll miss that along with their musty milk breath.):

I had to enlarge their enclosure yet again. Their old box set-up (minus the heightened walls) is now inside of a composting bin (44" X 44" X 3' high):

It gives them plenty of room to play:

And takes up plenty of space in my smallish room:

I first used the flower pots to weigh down their newspapers, but they proved to be a big hit as toys:

Joey investigates the corner:

Lizzie:

Their first night in the large enclosure, the puppies huddled in the narrow space between the "potty box" and the wall:

I guessed they felt exposed, so I made a nest from a very large towel and put it in the sleeping box:

The vet says that Lizzie has a genetic variation whereby her lower jaw is too short. She ought to be okay, but we have to make sure her adult teeth grow in without cutting the roof of her mouth (since her teeth don't line up properly):

Chasing Ginger for milk:

Joey is the most reluctant to give up on the milk, so he gets snapped at a lot:

In this picture and the previous four, I was trying out manual settings on my camera. I haven't figured it out yet, so that's why they're dark and blurry. The colors here reminded me of a Delacroix sketch:

Sketch for Lion Hunt, by Eugene Delacroix:

They love chicken jerky. It keeps them good and occupied for about ten minutes:

They still jump up and down and cry whenever they want out of the box, which is still five or six times a day (I let them out for an hour or two each time):

I can't let any bit of me hang off my bed or the puppies will bite it. But here's something fun--the boys were chewing on my foot:

When Lizzie popped out from under the blanket unexpectedly and bit Joey on the butt:

They're supposed to chew on this box, but not on the training pad (Lizzie likes to nip the corner of one and prance around the room with it like a banner):

More sleeping, thank goodness. It's almost cute enough to make me forget how angry they make me sometimes:

Leaning in expectantly, hoping for milk. Ginger is done nursing by now, but still steals their food:

I thought this was cute. (I keep trying to get good videos of the puppies running around, but I only have the webcam in my computer, so they're always going in and out of the frame, in and out of the light.):

Sometimes I'll walk into my room for a tissue or a jacket, and they're just kind of chillin:

I'm devastated that this excellent snuggle came out blurry:

Especially since taking the picture woke them up:

But fortunately they went right back to sleep:

One day Joey lay down in a poo and had to have a real bath (not just his usual puppy wipe bath), which he found terrifying and exhausting. Here he is after his bath on clean bedding, possibly the first time he ever got tuckered out before his siblings (Lizzie is chewing on the box here, not sleeping):

Still at it. I think this may have been the last time, though:

I might keep Lizzie. I want to get a life and go places, but she and I are friends:

I find this hilarious in many ways:

My sister was planning to keep Max, but now Max has an annoying, high-pitched bark that belies his relative heftiness, while Joey gets cuter and cuter every day, so who knows?:

My dad insists that we find a way to keep all of the puppies among us. After all, four little dogs will probably still eat less than our last dog (a German shepherd):

Max snuck out of my room and stole one of his mom's biscuits and ate in under a rocking chair:

The puppies go outside on warm days now:

One day I was listening to the intercom radio in the kitchen, and a Muse song came on. I wanted to keep listening to it when I went into my room to get something, so I flipped the intercom switch, somehow forgetting I had sleeping puppies in there. I ran in and they looked a bit shell-shocked:

The puppies have finally begun to get comfortable enough outdoors to explore:

Though Max still freaks out sometimes:

Can you see little Lizzie Brown in this picture? I worry about my tiny puppies getting lost in the big world:

Most days I only take them out one at a time, with their mother along. But it's fun to see them all out together. Can you see Lizzy and Joey in the background?:

Here they are!:

Ginger, chewing on bark mulch. I used to worry so much about her eating random things, but I've seen the puppies survive eating all sorts of stuff, so now I don't freak out about it as much:

Happy family, off to new adventures:

Bye for now!