Greene's Memory #39
When my chocolate lab Hershey was about to deliver her first litter, I was living on a five acre mini-farm near Lake Lorraine about halfway between Delavan and Whitewater. The first pup was born about 1:00am and I attempted to stay up most of the night with her as she averaged about one pup an hour. Some female dogs can be the wonderful mothers and I’ve been told some will have nothing to do with their newborns. I was fortunate that Hershey was perfect as she licked her pups, cleared their airways and ate all of the placentas. In amazement, I really just supervised, taking in the ambience and was just thrilled and proud to be there.
Hershey's sleeping, six week old black and yellow litter. (2011)
Previously, I had made a whelping box that would be in the birthing room and for the first month, home for the pups. It is a square box approximately four feet on each side with a lower side on one end where the pups still can’t get out, but the mother can exit when she wishes. I didn’t know how big a litter Hershey was expecting, so as I attempted to stay awake to greet each pup. I had my head on a pillow outside the lower end of the box, where I could lay and still see what was happening. I fought off sleep, but not very well and succumbed to sleep numerous times, only to be awakened by Hershey and another puppy birth. It was as if she wanted me to be awake and watch to make sure everything was alright. Well, after the entire process was completed, there were nine puppies with their feet on the ground. All were totally cleaned by Hershey and had already found Hershey’s feeding stations. Hershey and I were exhausted.
For the first month, Hershey was the perfect mother and more than that, she kept each of her pups as clean as possible and she consumed all the puppy urine and droppings. The whelping box was perfectly clean without any needed additional help from me. Almost, so I felt that I contributed, occasionally, I did scrub down the entire interior of the box. Then around a month, Hershey lost some interest, and the pups had become too large for the box and they had to be moved to the fenced area I had set up in the garage. I was in the process of weening the pups away from Hershey and had them eating a warm mush dog food which they didn’t have any trouble eating, standing in, laying in, and doing everything in. That’s when my job caring for the pups became a job. I was constantly attempting to keep the pen clean with shoveling and hosing it down. As soon as I had it clean, within minutes, it appeared as if it had never been cleaned.
Hershey with her two pups Elsie and Nyjer, that we kept from her second litter. (2011)
Inside the fenced pen, I first observed that one pup was not as active as the rest. Then I couldn’t help but notice that she had bowel movements that resembled small pieces of white chalk. I took her to my veterinarian, and after $400 and tears on my part, I learned that her liver wasn’t filtering properly. Even if we had operated, and even if surgery had been successful, she would have been on a lifetime of medicines. After a lengthy discussion with the vet, I had to have her put down. I brought her home and gave her a resting place on the hill overlooking my old farm house. She was a black pup but I gave her the name Whitey. All around, that was a long, tough day.
The pups became the most fun, when I took them for walks around the yard. I would yell: “Babies!” and they would all follow me. Previously, every time, I came to their whelping box or their pen in the garage, I had greeted the pups with a loud: “Babies!” I really played it up when I brought their food, so that sound: “Babies!” became a learned behavior for great things. As my wife Chris always says: “You (me) are the root of all fun for our dogs and they know it!” I am the man for food, bathroom breaks, walks, swimming, retrieving and hunting.
As I look back, I’m not sure why I made the decision not to keep any of Hershey’s first litter pups. I now see it as being a poor choice on my part, but I made up for it and we kept two from her next litter. It was difficult for me to say good bye to those first pups, but I also had mixed emotions, as I didn’t miss that enormous amount of poop pick up. For several years, the new owners proudly brought back their dogs to my farm for short reunions and I still keep in touch with two of them as they were bought by friends/hunters.
As I understand it, there has been some in depth research into the mixing of colors when breeding labs and what possible colors might result. With Hershey’s first delivery, I was told all the pups would be black from my chocolate and Turbo, the black stud dog. As I attempted to help her, the first two pups born were yellow. Now being new to this business, like human baby eyes, I thought maybe they were born one color and changed over time. I was wrong, as was the breeders that told me what to expect. With both births from Hershey and the same black male, she had a majority of black pups with only three and two being yellow. Elsie, Hershey’s black female pup was bred with Gonzo, a red lab with the result bringing eight black pups. We were hoping for at least one red puppy so we could add another color to our already chocolate, yellow and black lab family. So much for planning!
Next column: More litters and more memories.