With the puppies

The puppies are officially ours.

Timothy is the slightly bigger one with the slightly wider head. William is the smaller one with the pointier, Yorkier, face. The vet said they are in good health, each just a bit over two pounds. They should get to be, oh, between seven and ten pounds, more or less? Not pocket dogs, but still fairly small.

The vet did say to watch out for hypoglycemia, which is a problem in very small puppies. So we are feeding then every few hours. Tim is afraid of bowls, apparently, so he needs his food spread on the floor.

They are sweeties. They are soft little balls of fluff. They have the black and tan coloring of Yorkie puppies, though that will not last. We don’t know if they will end up looking more like their Yorkie dad or their Yorkie-poodle mom. Will prefers to sleep on top of other mammals — his brother, any human. Tim likes to eat chewies on top of Will’s head.

When I get home from work on Friday and Saturday nights, after midnight, I let Tim and Will out into the yard. Then I bring them back in, scatter some dog food on the kitchen floor, and sit with the puppies while they scamper and eat. When they are done I let them out again and then put them back into their crate for the rest of the night.

It’s late at night, and the house is quiet, and the puppies squeak and scamper. I am very, very tired when I feed them, but the dogs are warm and soft and they lick my chin.

They are good dogs.

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