Cozy Pups and Polar Climes

A day and a half after taking Natty to Cora's house, she gave birth to her puppies. Thank God I didn't go through this at my house as there were complications that I'd not be able to deal with on my own. The first puppy was stillborn. Cora tried to resuscitate, but to no avail, bless her. The birthing took over 3 hours as poor Natty was so exhausted, but Cora handled the whole operation like a pro, even helping Natty at times. So eventually Natty had 7 live puppies, all girls except for one boy, and after work on Wednesday I drove up to see her, even though snow was in the forecast.

Natty was so proud and protective of her brood. I sat on the floor very close and we were allowed to pick the babies up but were watched intently by mom as we handled them. A constant chorus of tiny wimperings and squeaks came from the puppies as they vied for the best position to feed. Even though they were so small it was possible to see these pups would grow up with different appearances. Some had snub noses while others had longer snouts. I couldn't get over their tiny paws and wiggly tails, the bed was an overload of cuteness.
Cora had even recorded the births, taking down times that each pup entered the world, and we chuckled at Natty's expressions as she watched the recordings on Cora's phone.She seemed to understand what she was watching. A lady who had been out with us the night we searched for Natty when she ran off has been hounding the shelter for news on Natty and wants to adopt her. Rebecca has said the decision is mine and I've thought of nothing else each day. The puppies have already found new homes according to Cara and I'm leaning towards letting this lady have Natty, on condition that if either of them aren't happy, then she would come back to me. It seems this lady has a lot more time and resources available to her than me, plus no other pets, so Natty would be spoiled rotten. I don't have to make a decision just yet as Natty and the pups are going to Cora's lake house for a few days so I can't visit them until next week. I have plenty to think about it until then; I want the best for this little girl, she's had such a hard life.
The weekend was yet again destined to be foul, weather wise, with ice storms and snow predicted accompanied by heavy winds. My hopes of cycling around the town exploring or walking along the river banks or early morning hikes on the Skyline Drive were dashed to the ground once again. The gales began Saturday afternoon as though a switch had been flipped. It was quiet as dusk approached, wisps and small flurries of snow falling as quickly as the temperatures. Then suddenly a loud whoosh swept around the house and the gusts continued throughout the rest of the weekend. But Sunday I was determined to get out, even if it was just for a drive in the countryside. The blasts of arctic air were still blowing, causing me to quickly draw breath as the cold hit, so there was no chance I wanted to hike. I took the back roads to Luray and looked around antique stores and sampled beers from their brewery, rushing from car door to shop store and back again between visits.

The threatened storm hadn't come by Sunday afternoon. I'd tried to stay within an hour of home while I was out just in case the weather suddenly turned, but I guess the tempest draughts blew the storm in a different direction. The previous weekend's snow still clung to shaded areas, wildlife and farm animals laid low to the ground or stuck to the sanctuary of hedges and woods. Ponds were encased in thick ice while rivers and creeks were lined with icicles along their banks, like white fingers stretching out as though trying to stop the water's flow. Nobody wanted to be out in these freezing conditions, and after a couple of hours nor did I. I drove back home to snuggle on the sofa under throws, hoping fervently that these last 2 weekends were not going to be setting a trend of bad weather over every weekend, as had happened for much of last year.