what A Lit­tle Hound- ful!

An­drea’s petite pooch de­fied the odds

Pick Me Up! - - OUR PICK ME UPS! - An­drea Mcgowan, 42, Bolton

When my York­shire Ter­rier Dolly, 5, fell preg­nant this year, I was ec­static.

‘There’s at least four pups in there,’ the vet smiled af­ter a check-up. Paw-some!

This May, af­ter nine weeks, I woke up at 5am to Dolly whim­per­ing.

My hubby Mark,

53, was work­ing away in Lon­don.

Luck­ily, my daugh­ter Court­ney, 21, was home from uni­ver­sity.

So, pulling on our dress­ing gowns, we went into mid-woof mode, hav­ing de­liv­ered a lit­ter five years be­fore.

This time we de­liv­ered three littl’uns in half an hour. Puppy power!

But some­thing wasn’t right with the third…

‘He’s not breath­ing!’ Court­ney cried.

Des­per­ate, I rubbed him with a towel, try­ing to re­vive him.

Af­ter 10 min­utes, I laid him down next to Dolly.

She started nuz­zling him… and he squirmed!

The lick of life!

The poor pup was tiny – half the size of the first two. He couldn’t even reach to suckle!

By now, my other two kids Joseph, 13, and Theia, 9, were wak­ing up for school.

They couldn’t wait to see the pups, were be­sot­ted, and I had to shoo them out in the end!

Turn­ing my at­ten­tion to Dolly, I no­ticed she was quiet…

Wor­ried, I rushed her to the vet’s with her pups.

She had another three there! By 7pm the next day, we were al­lowed to take a very tired Dolly home.

Un­for­tu­nately, her last pup didn’t make it.

But she had her paws full, with five to look af­ter. In­clud­ing a mini mutt! Tiny Tim, I called him, and he only weighed 2oz.

Every two hours, Court­ney and I bot­tle-fed him.

But he cried for four days – and we never slept!

‘He should be put to sleep,’ the vet said sadly.

It was un­likely he’d sur­vive the week. But I wanted to fight for Timmy.

So he was put on an­tibi­otics to build his strength.

While his sib­lings grew and de­vel­oped teeth at four weeks, Timmy be­came ill.

He got a res­pi­ra­tory in­fec­tion and sneezed mu­cus.

His life hung in the bal­ance… once again.

He was given med­i­ca­tion, but I was scared to let him play with his sib­lings. His head could fit in their mouths! But they all slept to­gether. Adorable. At 6 weeks, our Tiny Tim finally grew teeth and started eat­ing puppy food. When they were 9 weeks, his sib­lings were adopted, leav­ing Timmy to rule the roost. I couldn’t bring my­self to give him away. Now, he’s 12 weeks old, off all his meds, and will go on his first walk next month!

He weighs a kilo, and stands no taller than a can of beans.

But they say the best things come in small pack­ages. And when­ever we go out, I al­ways have peo­ple des­per­ate to meet him.

I’ve since cre­ated a Face­book page called Tiny Tims Tale for our pup-ular new ad­di­tion.

And I was as­ton­ished to find that now he has more friends than me! We thought that our Tiny Tim might’ve been Bri­tain’s small­est pup, but now he’s ac­tu­ally dou­bled in size.

Don’t be fooled by his cute­ness, though. The cheeky mite bites his mum Dolly’s ears, steals her food…

Safe to say, he’s a proper paw-ful – but we love him!

He weighs a kilo, and stands no taller than a can of beans

Tim’s cute, but he’s also feisty!

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