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We walk into the operating room and Dr. Lopez, Cherry Creek’s veterinarian, looks uncharacteristically disheveled. “Thanks so much for coming, Sawyer and Dawson.” He pats the mother pup, who looks like a Maltese. “Lucy Bell’s been in labor for hours and no babies.”
Concern’s etched on Sawyer’s face. “Poor girl.”
Once we’re in position, Dr. Lopez puts Lucy Bell under anesthesia while Marlene fetches the supplies. Speaking to him, Marlene says, “I couldn’t get a hold of the nurses, but I left messages.”
Dr. Lopez blows out a breath, shrugging. “All right. Looks like we’re a four-person show, so everyone, let’s give it all we’ve got.”
Sawyer and I both nod, our faces paling.
Once the supplies are set up, and Lucy Bell is asleep, I stand ready. Her poor tummy is bursting with babies, and Dr. Lopez says that’s why there’s a problem—there’s simply too many of them for her small size.
After the doctor makes his incision, he looks at us with heavy eyes. “I gotta warn you, with this many puppies and this long of labor, there’s a good chance some or all of them won’t be alive.”
I nod, having flashbacks to the day I lost my puppy, Blazer. I was seven, and it was the worst day of my life up to that point. A dizziness rushes through my head, but I’m older and stronger than I was then, and life has made me more equipped to handle these situations. At least, I hope.
Sawyer grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze, and I instantly feel better.
The doctor hands Marlene the first puppy, and she demonstrates how to clean him and rub him, telling us that now isnotthe moment to be gentle. These babies need to be turned upside down and shaken to clear their airways. Marlene continues, “When the puppies don’t travel naturally down the birth canal, they usually need stimulation to breathe.”
Nerves explode in my stomach, but these adorable creatures need me. I resolve myself to do everything in my power. When the second puppy comes, Sawyer takes him.
I take the third, and she’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. She’s all black, with streaks of white in her paws and a white tail. I’m in love.
We hope by the time the fourth arrives, Marlene’s puppy is breathing so she can take that one.
Mine has blue lips, which clearly isn’t a good sign. As I’ve been instructed, I shake the puppy upside down and clear her mouth of the fluids that are keeping her from breathing. “She’s not moving,” I say to Marlene.
“Just keep going, hon. It may take a good solid half hour for this to work.”
“Okay.” This iswaymore stressful than I imagined, as the life of this creature I’m holding entirely depends on me. “Come on, sweet baby. You can do it.”
Marlene calls out, “Puppy one is breathing.”
There’s an echo of cheers and a gigantic sigh of relief from me.
“Way to go, Ms. Marlene,” Dr. Lopez says, keeping his eyes on his surgery. “Now I have puppy number four ready for you.”
I get back to my critical job, alternating between rubbing and giving CPR to my pup. “Still nothing,” I say, my voice shaky. She’s smaller than the other pups.
“Just keep going. Don’t stop until she’s breathing, in and out.” Marlene is calm but firm.
“Yes, ma’am.” I keep at it, becoming more desperate as I go.
“Fifth one is here.” Dr. Lopez calls out.
“Number two still isn’t breathing.” Sawyer’s tone is dire.
“Neither is number three,” I add.
“Dang it. Dawson, you take number five and I’ll work on number two,” Marlene says. I do as instructed, and we switch puppies.
I take the little boy, heartier than my sweet girl. I hope I can help this one, but now, I’m doubting myself. I get busy, rubbing and shaking. I start CPR sooner this time, as that’s what Marlene’s doing.
Sawyer says, “Pup two is breathing!”
We all let out a cheer, but I’m shaken as I watch Marlene work on my little girl. Sawyer moves beside Dr. Lopez, waiting for puppy number six.
I’m focused and busy on my boy when Dr. Lopez says, “Sixth puppy is already breathing!” Excitement is clear in his voice as he rushes the puppy to the basket with the other breathing puppies.
