Escape bid interrupted by emergency snooze
Bam! Here I am! All a bit traumatic, but today I have mostly been being born. Awesome.
Well, OK, slight bit of dramatic licence; obviously I wasn’t blogging this the moment I popped out, there’s a little bit of sleight of hand, but hey, these things need marking somehow.
That notwithstanding, those first few weeks were a bit of a whirl. Mum ended up needing a caesar, and out popped me, sister Florence, and the littlest of little brothers. Sis and I were both very healthy little pups, leading to my first ever nickname – “Big Boy”. I decided I could live with that.
One week old and I tried to pull a Steve McQueen. Unfortunately my dramatic escape bid from puppy jail was foiled. First off, there was no handy motorcycle for jumping the fence. Secondly half-way through I just had to take a nap. Damn. I still maintain mum’s milk must have been doctored.
Me and sis just over 3 weeks old
On balance it wasn’t that bad: warm, comfy, all the milk a boy could want on a 24-hour feed. Florence and I soon piled on the pounds, although our little bruv turned out to be a bit challenged; sadly he didn’t make it far past three weeks.
Tough time, but sibling love was a big comfort. Turns out having someone to snuggle up with can cover over a lot of ills.
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