We got Willow from my dad on Sunday after New Year's Day. He had been away from his mother and in a huge crate for about 24 hours. He was clean and warm and fed and had been babied quite a bit but the sight of that 6 week old baby in a wolfhound-size crate just broke my heart. I didn't wait to be asked, I took him out and asked for him and got him.
We spent all day Sunday discussing names and trying to get him on a routine. Sunday night was awful. The last baby puppy I raised was in 1993 and it was twelve weeks old and weighed 17 pounds. I was up and down several times.
Jack took the puppy to the vet on Monday. He weighed three pounds and was full of worms. He got his first puppy shot and a dose of Strongid T. I had already discovered his overbite but there was nothing to be done about that.
I had gotten a camera for Christmas and it seemed like the perfect time to learn to use it. Click on the small pictures to see bigger versions.
The wolfhounds were quite shocked to realize that these wee ones were actually real dogs. J is especially fond of Gretchen and she of him. I don't let them get close because J could accidentally crush her. Their relationship consists of sleeping nose-to-nose with the kennel bars separating them. I tried to get a picture but the lighting does not cooperate.
I must say that Patches was a meticulous housekeeper. I cannot compete with her in that department. Now that she no longer spends all her time with them, I have to do the cleaning. I can't imagine having to clean up after 8 or 9 wolfhound babes!
Will is proud of his little brother and sister but he doesn't like them yet. Actually, no one wants to play with them. I guess after raising a boxer and two wolfhounds, Will has had enough of puppies. Too bad, he was good at it!
P.S. Doesn't Gretchen look like her big brother at that age?