The yellow alien was once again/still in Watson’s bed when I got up this morning. Later, when Fric came into the bedroom, she went over to his bed and dug at the bed around its perimeter thereby again creating a nest with the alien in the middle of it. Then she left the room and has shown no interest in it since. It makes me think yet again of phantom fetuses: Do some animals (or even people for that matter) have a mind or spirit awareness of their unborn young that may persist even if the physical fetus is resorbed, kind of like some amputees may experience sensations in a limb that no longer exists? Once again, I’m clueless, but as I watch how purposefully Frica interacts with the toy, I know she is not. She knows exactly what she’s doing and why.
The puppies are now 2-weeks old, all have their eyes and ears opened, and all have had their nails clipped in spite of vigorous squirming. The smallest has exceeded the capacity of my #1 postal scale so their combined weight is now more than a third of Fric’s body weight. No wonder she’s eating like a horse! When she’s not eating, nursing or cleaning up puppies, she’s getting back into the old routine of hanging with me or playing with the others dogs or cat. And what a joy to see her tearing through the snow and leaping over obstacles with her mams swaying like a dairy cow heading into the shed to be milked.
Below are the 2-week portraits taken by son Dan with a camera that looks like something from the Yellow Alien mothership. The original pictures are perfect; any lack of quality her the result of my still trying to master the intricacies of uploading. The first male in first row is still a chocolate color only that didn’t show up for some reason. I really didn’t have a Vulcan death grip on the little black female in row two. She just thought it would be a good time to learn to fly and I didn’t agree. As you can tell from the picture of them in the box with Fric, it won’t be long until that box is little more than a toy or something to chew on.
