~ Arriving ~
“Sophia, everything’s all right…Emma’s on her way.”
The rancher’s wife stroked the white Lab’s back and got up to find lanterns. The unfinished room hadn’t been wired for lights yet, and night was falling.
Moments later, Emma’s pick-up came up the drive. Calli the Heeler greeted Emma at the porch steps but was shewed away from coming into the house. Both women spoke quietly as they knelt by the white Lab under the soft glow of lamplight.
This was the night I was born.
My Mom had settled into the routine of the ranch through the summer and had pretty much got Calli to stay out of trouble when she was off-duty and around the house. *
The rancher’s wife had come to depend on Soph, for company and light conversation over shortbread cookies. Late-winter storms brought a few surprises of which one of those surprises was Dusty, a lost Golden who happened to appear out of a winter’s fog.
Sophie had been in the backyard and had finished her morning routine when she heard the subtle rhythm of pads on snow. She whipped around to face whatever was approaching, knowing it wasn’t Calli who was in the barn. She listened and waited, when out of winter’s misty veil, came the golden form of the most handsome dog my Mom had ever seen.
Dusty, upon seeing the white Lab just ahead, was about to ask his two standard questions whenever he was lost. But the questions (have you seen my Dad, and is there any thing to eat around here) no longer seemed important at the moment. A slight breeze had crossed over Soph and found its way to Dusty. Sophie was in season. Questions could wait, and nature took its course.
At the first break of warm weather, and on a bright day full of the promise of spring, my Mom went to the unfinished room, laid down and wouldn’t leave. It was time.
Sophie endured her first birthing without trouble, and inherited memory guided her in caring for her new charges: seven puppies came, in various shades from cream to ripe apricot.
The rancher’s wife was relieved, believing that all was well, but Emma seemed concerned. She could see Soph was exhausted, but still making the effort to nose and lick each of her pups to keep them stimulated. Soph’s head dropped suddenly with a slight whimper onto the blanket.
“That’s what I thought,” Emma said quietly to herself. She felt along Soph’s abdomen and concluded, “She’s not done.”
An hour passed, with Soph showing distress at times. Just as the rancher’s wife’s concern grew for Sophie, and the wife couldn’t take the waiting anymore and stood up to call for a Vet to come…my head appeared.
Emma gently helped my tiny frame come the rest of the way. My Mom, in telling the story to me (several times), said that saw Emma was going to take me away. Mom said she felt a momma-bear spirit rise inside her, and she did something she had never done before to a two-legged: she barred her teeth and low-growled a warning at Emma.
Emma cautiously laid me down, and my Mom got to work.
I remember this part because I got so mad. I had gone from a warm and dark waterworld—where the rhythm of breath and heartbeat were our comfort and safety—into a jarring transition I didn’t want any part of.
I just wanted to go back to my warm mystery world and sleep, yet something kept rubbing up along my side from tail to ear. Then it would go over my muzzle and nose. I just wanted it to stop. I got so angry at this constant assault….
I took my first breath and made a squeak of hot displeasure. I heard a two-legged sigh of relief in the room as Mom guided me to nourishment, and I stubbornly resisted until a new kind of warmth filled me.
Funny how anger and discomfort veiled what the room was actually filled with. Something so powerful, it has carried me through difficult circumstances (if I let it).
As I suckled, Mom nuzzled, siblings jostled, hoomans whispered, emotions faded, and I became aware of that powerful and subtle force that filled the room…love.
I have been tossed into four major transitions in my life. None were of my own choosing. Those circumstances, however difficult, have brought me to this time in my life when I am loved and valued in my pack.
My Mom was ready to fight to give the runt of the litter a chance, even though she was exhausted and others might interfere. She believed I would make it. All these years later, because of her, I believe, too. In life, and love.
So,…please take care of each other…even when it’s hard
~ Tucker Oso (Sophie’s Son) ~
- [EDITOR’S NOTE: See https://tinyurl.com/mr3usz4v for more]
