Their tiny little paws. Their squinty, little eyes. Their rapid, little heartbeats. Quietly whinging with their sisters and brothers. Together like a chorus line of demand for mothers milk. She's not interested so they wriggle and squirm about in dissatisfaction.
"It's impossible to keep a straight face in the presence of one or more puppies" (author unknown). I stare at them in their tub with smiles and giggles. He stares at me wondering how they can keep me amused for so long.
They smell. Stinky puppies. Mother is supposed to clean up after them but she's not interested. I give the smallest three a bath. Their odour only toned down. I dry them off and put them in the car. I'm going to hand raise them on synthetic milk. Mother is suppose to feed them but she's not interested. She's overwhelmed by the number of them (nine all up) and her maternal instincts aren't strong anyway. Taking three will ease the load. She might put more effort into the remaining six.
I feed her some synthetic milk because the can says it's a good supplement for her. She doesn't drink all of it but enough to satisfy me that she got enough out of it. She only picks at her food and the naughty pup, Rambo, eats what's left if she took it out of the tub. I think she misses her "free" life of chasing wallabies and chewing toys and thongs. She just sleeps when she is not with the pups or being petted. Every now and then she'll tear Rambo a new one for being to close to her babies or just generally pissing her off.
The runts are quiet on the long trip home. The heat of the engine coming through dries them off further and keeps them warm. They make a fuss when I try and feed them but I tuck them all into a dog carrier where they bunk down in each others comfort for the night.
They stink again the next day. Another bath with mild detergent this time. A good clean out of the container too. More fuss at feeding times with only one towing the line. They'll do alright. So long as they bloody keep quiet!