There are so many pictures in this entry! They start on January 23 and end this morning. Someday I'll do an entry that consists of only the best-quality pictures from a third-party viewpoint, not anything and everything I find cute and/or funny. Take, for example, this picture, from the day after the puppies' five-week birthday:
Even though my hair wasn't combed, and the lighting was shadowy, I thought I'd grab all the puppies and snap a picture before they got too big to hold everybody at once. (The best thing about holding them like this is you can feel all three tiny hearts, beating really fast.)
And consider this picture of Spot sleeping, which is slightly blurry and badly composed, but too funny to pass up:
Here's Ginger playing with the babies. She's gotten rougher and rougher with them over the last two weeks, but at the time this picture was taken, she was still pretty easy-going:
Here's Blackie, skipping fighting lessons to take a nap under a low wooden stool:
Pretty soon he was joined by Brownie and Spot:
We tried to name the puppies around this time since we read that they're supposed to begin to recognize their own names, but the process has proven surprisingly difficult. Nearly every name has either been co-opted by popular culture (e.g. no Jonas nor Bruno nor Niall) or sounds like a kid enrolled in a yoga class for preschoolers (like Sawyer or Mason or Olivia). My sister and I dug into a lot of old British and Welsh names, but they're a bit heavy for such little dogs, and I can't even remember any examples off hand because we ended up so far "out there."
At one point, my sister named the black one Bailey, so I started using the name, but then she decided it sounded stupid and asked me to stop calling him that. I called the brown one Lizzie for a while, and then decided she looked like a Maggie, and then went back to Lizzie, but "Brownie" had already stuck, and that's what I call out when I see her about to chomp into an electrical cord or something. My mom calls Spot "Joey," but my sister and I feel he's too silly and funny ever to be anything but Spot. (Except maybe Romeo because he's always trying to make out with people.)
Anyway, here's a cute picture of everyone's feet while they're drinking milk:
They're supposed to be weaning around this time, but even though I began giving them soft food at three weeks, old habits die hard. My sister and I both said at the same time one day that the puppies remind us of the TIME magazine cover of the three-year-old boy standing on a stool next to his mom to nurse. They're pretty aggressive about it sometimes:
After the puppies eat, they play for 45 minutes to an hour and a half. Spot's favorite place to play is in my blankets:
What does he see?:
It's Mama!:
He bites her tail:
And she bites his bottom as punishment:
And chases him into the corner to frighten him away!:
He's okay, though:
The puppies' faces are changing all the time. At two months, I plan to put a series of portraits together to show how they've grown.
Here's Blackie looking a little bit different than he does now:
Brownie, too:
She got into my computer cords that day. She loves to chew a good cord, despite my best efforts at puppy-proofing:
On January 26, the batteries in my camera died, and I didn't get new ones until February 2. I only took a few photos with my webcam that week:
I whistled:
Then I leaned forward and whistled:
Then they just posed naturally:
Here's the most recent update of their living space. I got a big cardboard flat at Costco ("Pirate's Booty" is some kind of snack food... I think they could have chosen a more appealing name). I had to cut it up and get it together really fast one morning when I was brain-dead exhausted because the boys kept climbing out of the potty box and falling on their heads. This set-up just added higher sides (with all-important inward-facing ledges) to their existing bed-box/potty-box set-up without taking anything away except some bits of the old boxes that had been chewed loose. So far they haven't gotten out:
On February 2nd, something scary happened. When the puppies got up at 5 AM (we're inching ever closer to sleeping through the night), Ginger demanded to be let outside. I usually go with her, but I had to run back and attend to the puppies, who were already pooping all over the place, or something. I let her in again after about ten minutes and gave her some food. I sat on my bed to watch the puppies, and soon Ginger came in and began scratching and rubbing her face against the side of my bed.
"Oh, Ginger, I hope you don't have fleas," I said. "What will we do if the puppies get fleas?" She then jumped up onto the bed and put her head in my lap and looked up at me. The light was very dim, but I noticed that her snout looked weirdly fat. Then I saw that her forehead was absolutely covered in lumps as if her skin were boiling in extreme slow motion, making the fur stick out every which way. I pried open her mouth and checked her tongue, which fortunately was not swollen at all. I called my mom and told her we'd have to go to the emergency vet clinic. "Just let me come and see," my mom said.
While I was waiting for my mom, I put cold, wet paper towels on Ginger's face, which she seemed to appreciate, and checked her tongue periodically. Her eyes began to swell shut. "Don't worry, Miss," I said to Ginger. "Mama's gonna come and kiss it and make it better, okay?"
And that's actually kind of what happened. When my mom arrived, Ginger jumped up and down excitedly as usual, and then lay on my mother's lap while my mom petted her. The swelling began to go down immediately. I looked up some stuff on WebMD (they have info about dog health, too!) and saw that it would probably go away entirely in 24 hours, which it did. Although, for much of the day, she looked like Marlon Brando in the Godfather.
I was worried about letting the puppies nurse in case Ginger had some sort of insect poison in her, but she started again very gradually--and mostly by accident. It's hard to keep Ginger from her babies when she wants to see them (or steal their food, which is more likely). I checked them again and again all day to make sure they were okay.
Here they are the day after Ginger's face swelled up, sleeping in the box they were born in, with its new outer walls and sloping cardboard canopy. I no longer worry about anyone crushing in their sleep since their bodies have gotten fairly hardy, and they can all defend themselves now. (Ginger sleeps outside the box, but nearby.):
More cute-but-blurry pictures:
Plotting naughtiness:
LICK-A-LICK-A-LICK!!!:
And a gentleman, once more:
They transitioned from moistened food to dry food by lapping up the water from a bowl of food and water, then eating the food. (Now they get food and water separately.):
I thought both of these pictures were cute:
Brownie has learned to be aggressive with the boys, so I can no longer rush to her defense (except in extreme cases):
"What? I'm bein' good!":
I stow the cord of the space heater under a basin so the puppies won't chew it, but now they're tall enough to climb up and get their claws stuck in the grill:
What constitutes "puppy-safe" changes from one day to the next as they develop new abilities and interests. I don't feel right leaving them alone in my room (meaning outside of their box) for more than about 10 minutes at a time, so my mom is bringing a large composting container, and I'll see if I can give their "house" a "yard" that they can play in whenever they want.
Ginger still jumps up on the bed with me to take a break from the puppies. Brownie wants to play with her, but no dice:
Spot gnawing on a Costco box. (My mom and sister pointed out that it looked a bit dirty and had possibly been sprayed with pesticides (it was a cherries box), so I threw it in the recycling bin. I try to only let them play with "clean trash," like Kleenex boxes and spring water jugs):
Brownie, chewing on a knotted rag. Knotted rags have been a big hit, and a good way of directing them away from rags they're NOT supposed to chew on, like their bedding. (Or MY bedding.):
Like I said, the play-fighting has become more violent, especially between Blackie and Ginger, who seem to be fighting for dominance. I imagine Blackie thinks he will rank higher than his mom when he is full grown. You can see his bared teeth in the blur near the top middle of this picture:
Little sister still often sits by herself, looking sad and scared:
Here she is chewing the carpet, something they all enjoy, although I strongly discourage it:
Blackie asserting his dominance in another way, by inviting himself to eat and drink out of Mama's big-girl dishes:
But he still looks like a little toy doggie! The puppies have all begun to look very puppy-like lately (and much less like smushed, furry worms with legs):
Everybody is still nursing after six weeks of age, which is the usual cutoff. Human mothers talk about how their babies gaze into their eyes "lovingly" while they nurse. I've noticed that these babies gaze up "lovingly" while they nurse as well, although they are unable to see their mother's face from that vantage point:
Doesn't he look like a little toy doggie?:
Toy:
I promise my mom isn't strangling Brownie here, but with the expression on that face, doesn't it look as though she is?:
That's a little better. But blurry!:
Spot, doing his "Doc" face (i.e. it reminds me of my late grandfather, whom we called "Doc"):
(Speaking of which, I really wish it were okay to name the puppies for deceased family members. Spot could be "Doc," Brownie could be "Leslie," and Blackie could be "Papa." Wouldn't those be good names?)
The puppies love playing King of the Mountain on tissue boxes, or just flipping them over and gnawing on them:
"Will you pick me up?":
"Will YOU pick me up?":
They love to chew on clothes:
And shoes:
And hair:
She often looks like she's listening to someone tell a sad story:
My sister says Brownie looks like an alien:
ALIEN!!:
Or orchestra conductor?:
She has the cutest way of looking up at me. We're each other's favorites:
The puppies have begun to scratch occasionally. I can't imagine why they'd be itchy. I think it's just another thing they've learned to do:
Spot trying to lick my mom:
Sneaky-sneaky:
If you hold two puppies too close together, chances are they'll fight. My mom didn't know that:
The puppies can't get on the bed yet, but they try every day:
When my mom was holding Spot, he gave her a little bite:
Then got scared when she yelped:
Banished to the floor once again:
Brownie likes to chew on my pants:
Hmm:
I can't let her keep doing this. What if a grownup dog tried to chew on everybody's fly?:
This is what they do when they want out of their house (along with a lot of wailing, screaming, bird-/monkey-like sounds). I took this photo before dawn and accidentally used the flash:
Still nursing at six weeks and a few days:
Brownie hanging upside down like a bat baby:
Ginger's had enough:
The kids usually wake up sometime in the night, then around 7 AM, and again around 10 AM, early afternoon, late afternoon, and around my bedtime. They're up for anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour and a half, and if I put them back in bed before they are tired they TEAR EVERYTHING UP!!!
Here they are around 10 AM, when the light in the room is good:
They're eating dry puppy food now, but for a week or so, I was softening the dry food, or feeding them fancy wet food. This is half a tray of Nutro Ultra Superfood for puppies mixed with warm water. It's great stuff that Ginger would kill for, but they'd still rather have the milk:
I desperately needed to tire them out a few days ago, and it was nice and warm, so I took them out to the yard in a basin for only the second time in their lives:
If I take them out to the living room, they pile out of the basin on their own, but outdoors they clung together and needed Ginger's reassurance:
I almost deleted this picture because she turned away, but it came out kind of great, didn't it?:
Everybody mobbed me after just a few seconds of exploration. "Take us back in! I promise I'll be a good boy and go to bed!":
"Please?":
Brownie's expression requires no translation:
I moved the puppies a few feet away from me so they could try exploring again. Blackie started crying, so his mommy came and licked him. (It was nice to see after all their fighting that she really does still care.):
I took the puppies inside again after only a couple of minutes, and sure enough, they looked shell-shocked for a few seconds and then went right to sleep.
This is Brownie, asleep in my mother's lap the following day. She usually gets worn out first:
Although Blackie wasn't far behind, falling asleep against my mom's shoes:
Spot is always the holdout. Here he is biting my mom's finger instead of going to bed like a good boy:
This morning, all the puppies were mobbing me at once, tearing at my clothes, tearing at the old papers and the new papers and the old bedding and the new bedding, and I just couldn't get their box made up. So I put everybody in puppy jail for a few minutes (i.e. the crate my mom bought for driving Ginger around if I'm not available. So far I've always held her on my lap. Otherwise, her default position is the driver's lap.):
"I know! I'll lick my way out!":
Is that enough pictures for you? You think it's crazy until it happens to you. My roommate was mocking me for it, but then she got her camera out, and I think she's taken more pictures now than I have. Even my dad got out his iPhone today and didn't let up for ten minutes. And since these puppies are changing all the time, there's always something new to record.
I think my next update will be at two months. Thanks so much for stopping by!!
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