Mama Jazzi is very scared of travelling by vehicle, so for the last three years, instead of having her permanently "fixed" so that she can't have puppies (because it would involve a traumatic trip to town), we've just managed her heat cycles by separating her from her boyfriend Hooch during the critical times. Well, somehow the two of them fooled us good, because there was a tiny litter of puppies born while I was away in Nashville at the beginning of March.
As things usually go when it comes to America's favorite dog breed, we didn't have a hard time finding a new home for the pups. For eight weeks they were called "Mr. Tubs" and "Little Miss" by the kiddos, who for the first time, really seemed to enjoy the process of caring for baby dogs. Especially our own little Miss, who could hardly bear the idea of not keeping them forever and ever.
As of the last weekend in April, life is back where the Farmboy and I prefer it... puppy-less (to say we got burned out after the years of puppy-rearing is putting it mildly). Hooch and Jazzi are back to their usual retirement schedule of napping, sniffing around in the field, occasional barking about who-knows-what, and exuberant if short-lived chases after balls. And the puppies are now living with forever families in Idaho and Montana, where there will be plenty of love to go around.
