It's Been One Of Those Days. Again.

Warning: This post is going to contain some graphic and completely unnecessary information regarding dogs. And how dog babies are made. If this is going to make you squeamish or offend you in any way, you'll just want to walk away now.

You've been warned.

That picture has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with this post. It was simply to put space between the graphic and completely unnecessary information that those with weak constitutions didn't want to know about. For the rest of you, read on.

So we have these dogs. See?

Those are the french people; Darla, Jill, and Jack. We kind of love them. But they're not simply here to entertain me and fill that space in my heart that only dogs can. Nor are they here to keep me humble with their random messes on the floor (STILL) or their mischievous ways. (Although that's kind of why I love them.) No, those three frenchies are here to work. Specifically, to have puppies. It's a win-win for me. I get to have a pack of dogs around me at all times, and play with puppies a few times per year. This is a stellar arrangement, right up until it isn't. Like today.

Random fact number one: dogs only come into heat (or ovulate) about twice a year. Unlike people, they do not ovulate monthly. 

Random fact number two: female dogs are fertile while they are bleeding, unlike women who are most decidedly not fertile during their period.

Now that you know these random facts, you'll be better able to follow along with the story line of my life. I have (not so patiently) waited for the french girls to come into heat so that Jack could do his one job here. (No, not pooping in his kennel at night.) I had a lot of confidence that Jack could hold up to his end of our agreement, which would be that I house him, feed him, love him, and pay his vet bills if he would simply make puppies. I mean, Jack is kind of ambitious in the love making department.

Random fact number three: french bulldog males are notorious for not being free breeders. This means that sometimes they cannot make the one job happen that all men love, and need some assistance in getting their game on.

(Are you grossing out yet? I did warn you, though.)

ANOTHER WARNING: things are going to start to get way more graphic than they have been already. I'm not going to post another picture. If you need to step out, DO IT NOW.

So Jill came into heat on Mother's Day, because she loves me like that. It was an awesome gift, since I'd (not so) patiently waited for just that very thing to happen.

Random fact number four: Once a female dog starts bleeding, you count 10 days and then set her up on a date with a tall, dark, and handsome four legged suitor. 

Jill's 10th day was Tuesday. (Two days ago.) I watched Jack's reaction to her like Jack watches his food dish. Turns out, Jack also had high interest in his food dish. More so than he had in Jill. Given that this is the dog that would practice his love making skills on any of the dogs that would tolerate it All.Winter.Long, I figured he'd be thrilled that his practice would now pay off. Instead, he completely lost interest in girls.


Random fact number five: When male dogs won't do their job naturally, you can help them along. Think a man giving a donation at a sperm center. Also be aware that dogs don't have hands. And figure it out.

I knew what needed to be done, but had been hoping (and praying) that nature would run its course and no intervention on my part would be needed. My head was deeply embedded in an ostrich hole, but I still heard Becky say, "you are going to have to take them to the vet, you know."

I know. 

I've been trying to pretend that it was unnecessary. I'm just loathe to pay for something that I can do myself. And I was even more loathe to do what needed to be done. But because I'm frugal, I attempted to get a threesome going with Jack, Jill, and myself. That's when I realized that I am completely inept at this kind of thing, and wow, am I glad of THAT. I now had very good reason to spend money to make puppies because clearly I couldn't do it myself. And I'm a little bit traumatized at the fact that Jack will now look at me in a different way from now on.

I had to sub a half day at the school, so I was running out of time. I showered, got dressed in school clothes, loaded the dogs into the van, and drove them to the vet. After checking them into the honeymoon suite to await professional help, I signed the papers giving them consent to be consensual. I then drove directly to the school and headed to my classroom.

I think it was during Health Class as I was teaching teen boys about puberty and sexual maturation that I noticed the spot of blood on my ankle. Thanks, Jill, for sitting on my foot at the vet's office. You left me with a wonderful reminder of how un-dull my life really is.

But the good news is that the vet is a professional in the field of canine reproduction, and if we're lucky we'll have tiny little french babies sometime in July. Hopefully by then, the memory of this day will be fading from my mind.


Cindy said...

So funny! Here's hoping their time of romance worked!

Karen Deborah said...

you are hilarious and your life is neva dull