‘I think I see what you mean,’ said Antony.
Fran didn’t think he knew what she meant at all, but appreciated him trying to understand.
There was a small table loaded with thermos flasks of boiling water, another jug of cold water, and jug of milk and a couple of feeding bottles.
‘Right, let’s get the bottles filled. Well, only about halfway up.’ He watched her. ‘That’s perfect.’
‘Theydrink half a bottle of milk? I know the bottles are only dolly size really, but—’
‘Ideally, we’d have a newly sterilised bottle for each puppy, but June told me they couldn’t buy enough bottles for that. Instead, we pour boiling water over the teats in between each feed.’
‘What’s this?’ Fran was looking at the clipboard. ‘I get the markings and love that they’ve got names, but weeing and pooing? Really?’
Antony nodded ruefully. ‘A bit coy, I know, but it’s what June put when they made the chart. I’ll show you.’
He picked up a cotton-wool pad and dipped it in the lid of a thermos into which he’d poured some boiling water and a little cold. Then he wrung out the pad over his wrist to test the temperature. Satisfied, he reached into the box and picked up a puppy.
‘There’s a heat pad under the Vet-bed in the box,’ he said, holding the squirming little creature, ‘it’s vital to keep them really warm. It’s why I’ve got the wood burner stoked and the heating turned up.’
Then tenderly, he began to dab the pad between the puppy’s legs. ‘Can you make a note of his markings? I can see it’s a boy.’
Fran picked up the clipboard. ‘Long white streak? Patch of white on the ear? That’s Billy.’
‘Great,’ said Antony. ‘And he’s just weed, so put a tick in the box. I’ll feed him now, poor little starving thing, and then we’ll do the poo bit.’
Helooked up at her. She was gazing at the tiny pup he now had in the palm of his hand. Antony supported Billy’s head with his fingers and put the teat into the gaping mouth. Billy latched on and began to suck lustily.
‘June told me that the advantage of puppies over human babies is that when you’ve fed them and they’ve weed and pooed, you put them back and they go straight back to sleep. None of that trying to settle them that apparently goes on with ordinary babies.’ He paused. ‘Now you feed one.’
Concealing her nervousness at picking up such a vulnerable creature, Fran reached into the box. Although the pup seemed to be completely asleep, the moment it was in her hand it squirmed into life. Instead of a little black and white tube, it was a puppy.
‘Oh …’ she whispered, cradling it.
‘You don’t have to be frightened of it. They are surprisingly tough. Now, who’ve you got there?’
Fran examined her wriggling handful. ‘It’s got three white feet so that should help.’ She looked at the chart. ‘Oh no, there are two with three white feet and two with a bit of white on their backs. Oh, Antony! I don’t know which one it is.’
‘There’s something you haven’t looked for. Turn it over. Is it male or female?’
Fran, feeling incredibly stupid, inspected the pup. ‘I still don’t know!’
Antonydidn’t mock her. ‘It’s a boy. See? It’s surprisingly far up, away from where you’d expect it to be.’
Fran was abashed. ‘Honestly, the most basic thing. I just hope I can do this.’
‘You can. Really, if I can, it can’t be that hard.’
Fran mentally put her shoulders back and started on the pup. First she persuaded it to wee, and then she fed it. That was the most satisfying, seeing the little thing full of a lust for life. Lastly, watching what Antony did (he’d fed another pup while she was still on her first), she got a little cylinder of yellow poo from him.
‘I can’t believe how satisfying that was,’ she said. ‘It was like watching paint coming out of a tube.’ She put the puppy back with its siblings and it promptly fell asleep. Then she blushed. She wasn’t sure she knew Antony well enough to talk about poo.
‘I expect there’s a posh paint colour called “Puppy Poo”.’ he said. ‘I might have it in here when I get round to redecorating.’
She relaxed and picked up another puppy. ‘Hmm, not sure it would work in here. You might be better with “Elephant’s Belch” or whatever it is. Now.’ She inspected her new captive. ‘Who have I got here? Oh, you’re a girl!’
When all six pups had been fed, and their various accomplishments had been marked off on theclipboard(ticks in all the boxes), Antony and Fran sat on the sofa together, looking at the sleeping litter, all close together in a heap.
‘I swear their tummies are all a bit bigger now,’ said Fran, ‘although I’m sure they can’t be really.’
