The Rainbow Bridge

Another one of our family dogs has gone to Doggy Heaven this past week.  Velvet was the last of our puppies we raised from birth.  I thought I would share a short story I wrote (in high school) that won a few awards.  I'm actually shocked that I still have this essay in digital format.  I think it has made it through the years for a time like this.  Having a pet is a very hard thing.  You love a dog knowing he or she will most likely pass before you do.  Here's the story of four of our special dogs.  It tells the story of Maude and her puppies Velvet, Big Dog, and Scruffy (aka Devil Dog).  It is kind of a long essay, but well worth the read!

Velvet and Big Dog.  I would love to share photos when they were puppies, but I don't' have any digital shots

The Puppies

She showed up on my family’s doorstep one hot, humid day in August. My family had no idea where she had come from. She was the ugliest, dirtiest, saddest excuse for a dog I had ever seen. She was an old brown, black, and white beagle. Her fur was matted to her dwindling body. Her ribs protruded enough that one could get an accurate count of her ribs. Her eyes drooped like a child who is about to cry. I could tell from her sagging nipples that she had been a mother many times.

Mom swore up and down that my family would not take care of her and Dad reluctantly agreed. My father never could resist the temptation of caring for the dog and was soon sneaking scraps to Maude after dinner. Although Mom yelled repeatedly at Dad, she soon gave in to Dad’s pleas to keep the dog. The dog reminded my father of an old unmarried woman who would sit around in her rocker all day, not bothering anyone. Since she had these characteristics, my father named her Maude. She had quickly worked her way into my family’s hearts.

At the beginning of the school year my family noticed that Maude was gaining weight in her stomach area. She looked pregnant. We did not think it possible that she could be pregnant. She was too old. She was having trouble breathing, so my family figured that she had cancer or some other sickness. We decided maybe it was a tumor in her stomach.

Maude’s stomach kept getting larger. It could not have been a tumor because if the tumor was the size of her bulging stomach; she would have died already. I felt sorry for her. She looked pathetic. Her short, stubby legs were overwhelmed by the watermelon-sized stomach. By October, her stomach was so large she could not make it up steps. All she could do was lie in a bed prepared by my family. As the weeks of her pregnancy continued her health continued to become worse. Her breathing sounded like she was clearing her throat instead of taking a breath. My family hoped she would have her puppies soon. If her puppies were not born soon, the chance of Maude surviving labor would be slim.

On Halloween I went to the movies with some friends and arrived home around midnight. I walked to Maude’s bed to see how she was doing and she growled at me. She would not allow me come anywhere near her. I found this odd because she would never turn away a hand ready to pet her. Wondering if something had happened to her, I ran to our porch and looked over the edge. It was dark in the garage, but a dusk to dawn light gave the garage a small glow of light and I noticed several small shapes in the box with her. It was Maude’s puppies! I tried to count the puppies, but Maude would not let me close enough to count.

The next morning I went out to the garage to count the puppies. I counted seven puppies. One was hard to see because it was wedged between Maude’s backside and the box. It was obvious from the size of the puppy that it was the runt. Its fur was jet black. It lay there not even trying to nurse. The other puppies squirmed around Maude’s stomach fighting for a nipple. I carefully picked the runt up and moved it toward a nipple but it still would not start nursing. I knew that it would die if it did not start nursing.

The runt was the first puppy to die. She died two days after the birth. The rest of the puppies were getting weaker. Maude was also. In the first four days of the puppies lives, my family had lost two other puppies. Maude was left with only four puppies to nurse, but her health was still fading. My dad asked the vet what we should do to help Maude. She said we needed to start bottle feeding the puppies. This would make nursing easier on Maude because she was too old to produce enough milk to feed four puppies. We began bottle feeding the puppies. It was too late. The puppies had already drained the life out of Maude. She died six days after giving birth to her litter.

After Maude’s death, my house broke into chaos. My family had to feed the remaining puppies four times during the day. It usually took forty-five minutes to feed them. These puppies were the fighters of the litter. They had taken many hits and were still surviving, but two days after Maude died, one of the surviving puppies passed away. My family was left with three puppies to care for. We named them Velvet, Big Dog, and Devil Dog.

Velvet was the littlest of the three. Her fur was jet black except for a white spot on the tip of her tail. She was the puppy who showed me who the father of the puppies was. She looked exactly like our next door neighbor’s Labrador. She is the miniature image of him down to the white-tipped tail. She fit in the palm of your hand and loved to be cuddled. She was my favorite puppy. She looked so innocent with her eyes sealed shut. She would search for the bottle nipple and shriek until her mouth found the nipple.

Big Dog was the biggest of the three puppies. He was frisky. My house was a jungle to him. He was the explorer who wanted to see all of the sights as quickly as possible. It was funny how he would run into a chair or some other object in the room and then would be stunned for just a second until he decided to continue his explorations. There were many times I had to stop him from falling off a table or bed. His fur markings were hilarious. He had black cow-like spots on his white fur. One spot on his back looks remarkably like Mickey Mouse’s head.

Devil Dog was the ornery puppy. We had to feed her out of the syringe long after the other puppies started using the bottle. She refused to suck out of the bottle. She would suck out of the syringe though. Her white hair was so thin, the pink of her skin showed. She looked like a rat. Her name, Devil Dog, was ridiculed by many people. Eventually my family decided to change her name to Scruffy.

The puppies are now two and a half months old. They have each developed their own personalities. Although Velvet was originally the sweetest puppy, she is now extremely ornery. She loves to dash away from me when I go to pick her up. Her black fur is speckled with brown spots now, but her white tipped tail still remains. Big Dog has changed the least of the three puppies. He is still the jungle explorer, though. Scruffy is my favorite puppy now because she loves to play but will cuddle also. She is the most obedient of the three.

Having the puppies in our house has changed the way I look at motherhood. Many times they would keep me up late at night and wake me early in the morning. I am constantly changing the newspapers in their pin. I am also having to train them to go to the bathroom outside. It is hard for me to punish them, but I know it must be done or they will never learn. I have gained experience from taking care of these puppies that will help me when I become a mother. I have also realized that I am not ready to have my own child. When I am tempted by a better activity than puppy care, I will push my puppy responsibilities toward another family member. When I have my own child, I will not be able to give my responsibilities to another person. I have gained a great deal of insight in only two and a half months and am excited to know I will learn more in the future months with my puppies.

Velvet will be missed, but she has crossed the Rainbow Bridge and is now healthy and happy and reunited with Jake, Maude, Big Dog, and Scruffy!