Dear doGfather, Who Art In Heaven

“Please make the puppies go bye bye.”

Well Wootie Bear, your prayers have been answered.

This weekend, Mona and her pups are going to their new foster home for the remaining three weeks of puppyhood. Their new foster home is big, and has a yard, and three kids to play with and socialize the pups. It’s a so much better situation for them. I’m happy-sad. For all the stress that’s been inflicted on my household, these little piggies will be much missed.


Oops! Shit, sorry.

I meant these little piggies:

I weighed the pups tonight when I dewormed them. Cindy is the most wee at just about 5 lbs and Oliver is the largest at almost 7 lbs. Bobby looks bigger than Oliver but he is fluffier and weighs a little bit less. They sure are fat and sassy little guys!

Remember when they looked like this?

Puppies, 24 hours old

Wow.

Rest assured, there will be more puppy photos. I will be making the trek out to Delta every weekend to take photos and check on my little monsters as they grow.

My floofy woofy Bobby boy

Itsy Bitsy Feisty Cindy

Big Ham Oliver

Mr. Merley Mike

Even Miss Mona, Perpetually Hungry Single Mum

And as you can tell by Tweed’s body language, he’s just so, like, depressed that his favourite buddy Mona is leaving. Not.

I haven’t broken it to him that his humpables are going with her.

Oh You’ve Got Blue Eyes …

Oh you’ve got grey eyes …


Actually, ALL the pups have blue eyes. And by “all” I mean all puppies everywhere. But Marsha and Mike have blue-blue, sky-blue eyes. That means when the other puppies’ eyes turn brown, Marsha and Mike’s will remain blue.

Mike did not cooperate with the photo shoot as he was asleep. Which is GREAT! I *love* it when they are asleep, as it no longer happens often enough.

You can’t tell from this horribly unflattering photo, but Marsha is going to be a knock out.

All of the puppies, in fact, are very attractive little dogs.

Big boy Bobby

Squealy, AKA Picasso

The time of puppy dominated photo blogging is rapidly coming to an end. And I don’t mean in the grand scheme of things, I mean this in a most literal sense. I am actively looking for an alternate foster home for Mona and her babes now.

The puppies are 31 days old and are outgrowing my apartment. I’ve expanded their xpen area by another third but can literally make it no larger – it’s now an obstacle course to access my kitchen and I’m practically sitting on them while I type this. And whenever I type, I’m almost sitting on my bed as it is. In other words, this town ain’t big enough for the (nine) of us.

Raising puppies is a lot of work when, as my good pal Mike pointed out, you do it properly. These pups are heavily socialized by my friends and family and me. I spend a lot of time interacting with them and otherwise trying to make sure they are well adjusted. I rotate their toys daily and introduce them to something new every day. But there are only so many hours in a day and too many of them are devoted to the puppies for me to get on with life. And surprisingly, life takes up a lot of time as well. My own dogs are suffering from a lack of attention and time and I am suffering from a lack of sleep. Cookie Uncle helps me out by exercising my dogs, and Auntie Jody helps me out by coming in mid day to feed and play with them. But I still feel like I’m not doing enough and that the pups deserve more.

I’ve really enjoyed sharing the growth process with you all! But blog fodder is not a good enough reason to keep these pups crammed into my small living space if there is an alternative for them.

If you are in the Vancouver area and think you might be interested in taking Mona and puppies home for the next 4 weeks, please email me and we can chat!

See? SEE?? I told you!!!

What do you think this could be?

It could be puppies exploring my apartment. It is, in fact, puppies violating my office chair!! And who’s in that photo, humping merrily away? It’s Picasso!! Bastard. Pervert. What kind of puppies am I raising?!?

Before we go any further, I want you to hold up your right hand and repeat after me:

“Food Lady is insane (in a good way). Food Lady has 12 dogs in her 400 square foot apartment. Food Lady is raising rescue puppies, running a dog rescue and is forced to live with Tweed 24/7. She takes the dogs to the beach almost every day. She takes lovely puppy pictures for us almost every day. I therefore will not judge her for the obscene amount of sand on her floors. Sweartogodamenbrutha.”

Okay, we’re good. I didn’t vacuum and sweep until *after* puppy playtimez.

Ladies and Gentleman (Yeah, just one gentleman. I assume it’s only Cookie Uncle representin’ for the boyz) we have little dogs.

Not potatoes, real live little dogs. Look!

We had a playdate. In just a couple of days, it has become play for 25 minutes and sleep for 45, then repeat. I’m thinking of starting them on heroin or some other kind of downer.

“Yum. Flesh.”
^^ takes after Donut!!

Tweed passes on more perverse secrets.

I’m annoyed that I screwed up the focus on this one because it’s such a pretty shot – or it would be, even with the trashcan in the background. If you really loved me, you’d pretend the puppy was in focus too. kthanx.

Besides, I make it up to you with heart tuggers like this:

That’s Cindy. Appropriately, given the Brady Bunch theme, she is the most wee puppy in the pack. And she is so SO social. She toddles around after me wagging her tail like mad. She’s a feisty little girl with lots of sass. She reminds me of someone … oh. right. me.


And for Rainy …

Marsha Marsha Marsha!