This event took place in 1996 -

      Early spring, March, Theia was bred to Magnum; two virgin creatures that rather have company in the “love pen” than not.  Neither dog would react to the other if I were not physically inside the ten foot by eight-foot dog pen to watch over the breeding.       I was as virgin about breeding dogs as the dogs were about mating. A week of estimating the timing, commuting Guilford to Hamden, Connecticut and guidance from friends at the vets we were successful.  Sixty-three days later Theia whelped a littler of nine healthy, sturdy, yellow Labrador retrievers all of whom resembled little piglets more than puppies with their pushed in bright pink noses, pudgy bodies, tiny otter tails and little grunting noises.  Willow was the ninth pup delivered at 3:17 AM on May 30, 1996.  She was still unclaimed and unnamed at that point.             Theia belongs to my sister and when the whelping process began early evening the first put finally arrived around 11:30 PM.       Waking Wendy, the two of us cooed and stroked Theia as she let nature takes its coarse.  The first, a male, was all yellow and even before he was cleaned and suckling the second began to arrive. Eventually, my sister became bored with the lack of variety, all pups were yellow and looked the same, and tired she retired to bed.      Alone with Theia I hoped the remainder of the whelp would go smoothly and Theia would handle the situation.  Every fifteen to twenty minutes she whelped a puppy until sleep over came us both around 2:15 AM.  I felt her belly before dozing off and sensed one more puppy waiting to come into this world.  Finally an hour later she made her appearance.  It took a while for Theia to clean the sack off the pups face and time passed, I stepped in to help, but clearly this one wasn’t breathing.  Theia worked diligently licking the pup and gently blowing into her miniature nostrils as she did.  I was struck by this instinctive attempt to resuscitate. Theia new this puppy wasn’t breathing, she was healthy and required air so she worked until successful.  The gentle puffs of air she delivered with each lick were enough to get the pup breathing on her own.  There was a brief moment of panic in my heart as I thought this ninth puppy was not going to survive as she began to turn just slightly in color.           Once cleaned up and breathing on her own the ninth and last puppy born instinctively began to search for sustenance.  I had to complete the cleaning process since Theia was too exhausted to lift her head.  Her job was completed.  The pup squirmed across the sheet, struggled in darkness and driven by instinct, and edged into my armpit.  Imagine, an instinctive search for food only to arrive at a stinky armpit instead of a well of milk.  Marveled by her strength, beauty and perfectly formed miniature canine features, I savored this moment.  The nudging in my armpit tickled; eventually I picked her up, and plugged her into a nipple on Theia’s belly.  I liked this little one, seconds old and we already had a soul touching moment. I pushed the encounter out of mind.  Sleep over came us all, canines and human.  In silence, a new journey was beginning to unfold.