Old but New

I Cried Alone

Zeke is my fifteen week old German Shepherd puppy and the only survivor from a litter of eleven.  He has allowed me experience what it's like to care for and nurse a baby back to health, watch one grow up, experience being a mother, and has helped me deal with a headache that I've had for over two years.  He's an absolute joy to be around and my family genuinely loves him to death.  He has so much personality and understands a lot more than most dogs seem to do. It's funny, too, because he really doesn't even think he's a dog.

June 18th at around 7 P.M. my mom was grilling dinner outside and as dinner was finishing we noticed that the neighbors were outside decided to ask how the new litter of chunky puppies were doing.  My neighbor came over, sullen, explaining that he had just finished burying all but one.  Taken aback, we asked what happened and were informed that the mother became ill and would not feed the puppies.  After having read about bottle feeding, I suggested the option thinking that the last puppy wouldn't survive, being only four days old, if his mother was sick, her milk was no good, and she wasn't willing to feed him.  We soon rushed off to PetSmart to buy the formula and bottles.  When we returned my neighbors asked us if we would be able to feed him since they both had to work, and in order to survive, the puppy needed to be fed every three to four hours; we agreed.  Thin, weak and malnourished, my mom and I tried to feed him and allowed I him sleep on my chest as to not feel alone, hoping that he would survive the night.

Two weeks later, still alive, Zeke developed severe diarrhea.  My mom and I took him to the vet for the first time, where the vet injected him with fluids.  He writhed in pain as the large needle pierced his thin, weak body, yelping, as if he was saying, "Momma! It hurts!  Tell them to stop, please!"  It was difficult to watch, but when it was over, I held him close and told him everything would be alright.  Later during that week my family and I wanted to go to the movies. Unable to leave weak little Zeke alone, we snuck him in.  He's been to the movie theatres four times in his lifetime. Sometimes he’d be peeking out of his blankets watching, amazed at the moving pictures.

When Zeke was six weeks, I allowed him to stay outside for longer periods of time to play with his two older sisters and explore more of his own world.  I took dozens of pictures those days, including the one that this story is based on.  To me, it looks like he's saying, "Look, mom!  I'm a German shepherd, I made it!"  Most days he seems to not even consider himself a dog.  He watches TV with me, listens when I tell him stories and explain things to him, and he sits there with a look on his face as if he understands everything.  He didn't bark until he was three months old.  The only time he ever did before then was in his sleep, and as a result, he'd scare himself awake.  He also talks.  When he used to cry, my mom and I would tell him to "use his words," which now a days, he pretty much does.

Although it probably doesn't seem like much, Zeke has genuinely helped me keep my mind off my headache and has kept me going.  It's been an astounding fifteen weeks watching him grow, recover various times from severe diarrhea, act like Steve Irwin the mighty crocodile hunter with his sisters after watching the show, and just watching his personality and the way he creatively processes the objects around him.  He's a survivor and a real gift.  It's heartwarming to see that he actually considers me his mother and he's a stunning addition to the family.  Zeke is one of a kind and I look forward to making new memories with him and my family in the many years ahead of us.

The First Four Days

I entered the world on a warm summer day in a large box with mom and my ten siblings. I was aware that it was a large box because I would wander around and find the tall, smooth walls. I knew there were ten others because we all smelled different. We snuggled together near mom to keep warm and fought each other for her milk. She constantly licked us to clean and help relieve ourselves, and even though her tongue left us wet and cold, she kept close to keep us warm. I might have been smashed and run over a few times, but I was happy like that; I had a pack. We knew mom was nervous because we always felt her get up and move around, but she never left us unless she had to use the bathroom. At first I never knew why she was nervous, then, that night, I found out why; she was sick.

It wasn’t but a few hours before that mother’s milk was sweet and warm. But the milk had turned sour and very hot. Since it was the only food I knew, I continued to nurse. Mother’s body increased in temperature and at times she would leave us to sit in the corner of the box. Hungry as most of us were, we crawled around the box trying to find her. When we did, she would move again. The warm bodies around me were vibrating, blind and deaf, I interpreted that as crying because I was crying, too. A few stopped vibrating and fell asleep huddled together for warmth, away from mom. Exhausted from crying, I too, crawled to my nearest brother and fell asleep. I woke up feeling oddly cold. I concluded that I must have moved around in my sleep. I began to move to find another brother or sister to curl up with and as soon as I did, my nose felt something stiff and furry, and it smelled familiar. In an instant I realized what it was; my brother. The same illness that affected mother had killed my brother. I writhed around crying for mother when I felt another still body. That was our first night of life and two members of the pack were dead.

My howls had finally convinced mother to check on me, so she lay down next to me and reassuringly licked me. While nursing, I continued to blubber into her teats. The others soon joined us and after having my fill of the wrong-tasting milk, I, again, fell asleep. I was woken by heavy thuds on the ground and soon found myself being lifted by something strong and warm. The scent was different from the others and mother must not have feared it for she did not come to my rescue. I was rolled over a few times by this large creature and checked from my nose to tail. After being fondled I was returned to mom where she cleaned me again. It was bizarre being handled by something other than mother. The creature wasn’t furry or cold and the touch was neither caressing nor dangerous. As I snuggled back under mother, my imagination took over as I tried to figure out what kind of creature it was. Before long I nodded off into a restful slumber. My imagination continued as I dreamt about the odd creature.

I tossed and turned feeling uncomfortable and feverish. As I gained total consciousness I realized just how hot our little room became. A foul stench lingered and I realized that mother was unable to clean our droppings because it was diarrhea. Mother was also radiating heat and her fur was moist with perspiration. I was too distracted by hunger to worry at first and joined my four, already-suckling brothers for breakfast. The milk persisted to taste wrong and I could not alleviate my hunger. As I stopped suckling, heavy thudding approached and it wasn’t until later that day that I realized the creature came to check on mother and to collect three more siblings that had passed. Day two and only five of us remained. Whether it was the milk or the shock from learning about my dead brothers, my stomach became aggravated. It felt swollen and sharp pangs assaulted it. I was then overcome with diarrhea and lost my appetite.

It was the third day since our birth and I soon realized that I, too, was becoming ill. I wondered how long I would have to suffer with these sharp pains and gnawing hunger. I tried to eat, but the nausea was merciless and the food would leave my body within minutes. I resorted to sleep to try to block out the hunger and pain. At the end of the third day, two more had entered an eternal slumber and were collected by the large creature. On the morning of the fourth day, mother had refused to lie next to us, completely. The four of us were hot and even the wind machines that the creature added to our home could not cool us. By the afternoon, diarrhea and death filled the air as two more left us. Only my sister and I remained. Seeing the two of us left, mom desperately tried to feed us and keep us alive, but she, too, could not handle the illness. Near the end of the day, my sister had died.

I was the only one left and I felt so alone. There were no more vibrating bodies surrounding me, no more brothers and sisters to crawl over and fight for milk, no more siblings to curl up with. In the middle of the room I lied and began to howl. Overcome with grief, loneliness, illness, hunger, and pain, I cried to the world. Finally I cried myself to sleep. That night I was taken out of my home by the creature and placed on the ground covered with grass. I realized that mother was not around. The scents were unfamiliar and I cried hoping mother’s presence would comfort me. Already being weak I could not carry on with my howls. A few minutes later mother had entered the area and I became a little lively. It was not until later that I realized friends of the creature were looking at me to find a way to save me. I wondered why is it that I should have the chance to be saved when my brothers and sisters weren’t even offered that chance. Why me? Soon I was transferred into an unfamiliar grasp. Mom’s scent was no longer around and I writhed with worry. Not long after was I offered something similar to mother’s teat; it had milk! It wasn’t surrounded with fur nor was it hot, but somehow it carried food. Weak and tired, I was reluctant to eat. Again I wondered, why me? Several times this false teat was placed into my mouth, yet I refused to drink from it. After a while it seemed like they had given up, for I was placed in a box and taken somewhere else.

They did not return me to mother and after being transferred around I was, again, picked up and placed on something warm. The warmth was not burning nor was it sweaty and a gentle breath blew on my back. I was gently caressed and had a thin blanket around me. This place was cool and it felt nice. I then felt something familiar; a heartbeat. This creature behaved much like mother, almost immediately I felt some relief. Again it offered me the fake teat, feeling somewhat hopeful, I began to nurse. The taste was different, but it did not taste wrong. Not long after, the pain in my belly and my hunger subsided and I was filled with a cozy warmth. I continued to wonder what happened to mother but the heavy presence of sleep was becoming unbearable. The creature holding me sent off some vibrations. It wasn’t barking or crying, but it was speaking. It wasn’t until a month later that I learned she was saying, “Hey, it’s okay.”

For days and weeks this creature and another one that was similar fed me, cleaned me, and kept me warm. At 13 days, my eyes and ears had opened and I was able to see my two new mothers. These creatures were called humans. They gave me a home and a family. At 17 days after my birth I became ill and the familiarity caused me to almost lose hope as I remembered what had happened with my siblings. But the grief that had stricken my new family at the thought of losing me encouraged me to fight the illness. A week later, I had recovered. At the age of almost four weeks, I visited my mother for the first time since our separation; she was right next door the whole time. She cried with happiness and licked me through the fence. At first I was hesitant because I did not know it was her, but her scent was unmistakable.  My new family had offered to return me but their friends, my mother, and I knew I belonged right where I was. It has been 15 months since I was born. I’m a German Shepherd, black and tan, 86 pounds, live with four of the humans, and have four older siblings like me, not including the ones next door. My human mom and family still care for me, love me, and treat me like one of them. To this day, I never lose hope and continue to love both of my families. I was lucky to receive the chance to survive and a gain a new pack.