Fur babies

Rachel' s husband wasn' t ready to have kids, but then eight came along at once. Would he cope?

Well?' Jason yelled from the other side of the bathroom door.

He tried the handle, but Rachel had locked it from her side.

She picked up the pregnancy test from the back of the sink.

One line!' she called. I' m not pregnant. Again.'

`Are you OK?' he replied. Do you need a hug?'

Everything to Jason could be cured with a hug.

Late-night disappearances to his friends' houses, his accidental spending of their rent money.

Even when he forgot to pick up milk on the way home, he' d hug it out.

He's not ready for this, Rachel considered from her perch on the side of the bath.

She wondered why she' d ever agreed to try for a baby.

His mother making overtures, hers knitting booties. Jason constantly reminding her they' d been married for two whole years now, as if pregnancy came with a timetable.

Freckles' s predicament hadn' t helped. Talk about bad timing.

Are you coming out?' called Jason.

Rachel picked up her bag and peered inside it at her packet of little pink pills.

Then she zipped it up, worried Jason might discover her stash and start asking questions.

Have all our near misses been a lie?' he might demand. I can' t love someone I can' t trust.'

She unlocked the door and, of course, Jason with his sandy-coloured hair in its usual disarray flung his arms about her.

Maybe next time, eh?'

Rachel peered past his arm.

On the landing sat their Dalmatian, Freckles, all four of her legs seemingly arranged to make way for her enormous belly.

When a fence panel had blown down, she' d escaped the back garden.

She' d hared off looking for adventure, but it seemed she' d settled for a one-nightstand instead.

They' d had no idea until she expanded alarmingly.

Then a trip to the vet confirmed what they had both suspected. She' d give birth any day now.

Rachel shared a look with the dog. They often compared notes when alone.

You' re clearly all set for this,' she' d said just that morning when she gave Freckles her breakfast. Me, I' m not so sure I can cope. I know Jason' s not up to the job. If I have one more false alarm, I' m going back on the Pill. Don' t tell him, will you?'

Now on the landing, Freckles whimpered, then struggled to her feet.

She headed towards the stairs with a waddle. When she descended she did it with great care, as if carrying a Ming vase in her middle.

Is she all right?' Rachel asked. It' s not time, is it?

She' s been acting weird all morning. At least we have the vet on speed-dial, just in case.' She' ll be fine,' said Jason. It' s all perfectly natural.'

Ugh, it's all perfectly horrendous too, Rachel thought hours later, as the eighth puppy of the litter arrived.

By this time, poor Freckles lay panting, the whites of her eyes on display. Still, she dutifully licked Number Eight, along with her other pups, who were latched on to teats and filling their bellies.

Some of the puppies had their mother' s spots, but most were a dull, muddy brown.

She and Jason had planned to let the dog have a litter, with another Dalmatian of excellent pedigree.

But seeing the reality of the birth, that idea no longer appealed to Rachel.

She glanced around and caught sight of Jason, his face slack and his tongue lolling out as he snored on the sofa.

We need to change Freckles' s bedding,' she scowled. You' re really not going to help, are you?'

Freckles tilted her head as Rachel spoke, then she heaved a yawn.

Go on then, you have a nap as well,' Rachel said. `At least you deserve one.'

Jason blinked awake. Clearly he hadn' t heard a word.

They' re not much trouble, are they, puppies?' he said. What a doddle giving birth was too. You know, I think I' ll just nip out for 10 minutes. I promised a mate I' d drop in a drill-bit. I won' t be long.'

Rachel didn' t protest. She sat thinking of her little pink pills instead.

As soon as he left, should she go and fetch the packet?

T hen she zipped it up, worried Jason might discover her stash and start asking questions

No, no, no. Give me that!'

Five weeks passed in a blur of puppy yaps, and puppy snores, and little puppy accidents dotted

all over the laminate.

Today, Jason charged down the hall after Number Three who' d stolen his sock.

Not any old sock a sock for work that matched his charcoal grey suit.

The puppy, a chunky little thing with a bib of white, made something of a handbrake turn, zooming round the back of the sofa.

There came a yap as he collided with Number One, already in the gloomy depths shredding one of Jason' s slippers.

Rachel sat herself on the sofa, still in her office attire.

Their puppy-sitter had just departed. Miriam from next door had turned into a godsend.

You shouldn' t have let Number Three take your sock off,' she told Jason. It was cute,' he replied. All my socks have holes in them now anyway.'

That was his own fault, he could try harder to put his things out of reach.

His dressing gown had been disassembled as well.

The pups had escaped their pen in the lounge one morning and arranged an assault on the bedroom. So used to the noise of them haring about, Rachel and Jason still dozing under the duvet, hadn' t twigged.

Jason had found them eventually playing tug of war in the kitchen.

My mum bought me that!'' he' d yelled in dismay.

When Rachel came down, she' d discovered Freckles sitting alone in the lounge away from all the drama.

She' d thought for a moment the dog exuded a Zen-like calm. She quickly realised it was more like weary resignation. Freckles almost rolled her eyes.

Don't get your boxers in a twist, Jason, it's just a dressing gown. Learn to pick your battles.

Now weeks later, his clothes under attack once more, a sock-less Jason hurried into the kitchen.

Puppies, come on, wee-wee time!' he called, shaking a bag of puppy mix. Numbers One to Eight, assemble at the back door.'

He made the same joke every time he let them out to destroy the garden that' s when he bothered at all.

Rachel left her seat in the lounge and joined him in the kitchen.

In three or four weeks, they can all go,' she said.

They had found homes for five of the pups so far.

They' d refused even to give them proper names, wary of becoming too attached.

At the door, chunky pups underfoot, all yaps and wagging tails, Jason blanched.

Yes, right, OK. It' s all part of the¼ the process.'

SheÕd thought for a moment the dog exuded a Zen-like calm. But it was more like weary resignation

Number Two left home first. A friend of Rachel' s from work visited and picked her out.

Number One found a home with Jason' s cousin on the very same day.

That evening, Rachel found Jason blowing out great gulps of air as he sat on their bed with his shoulders hunched. Are you OK?' They grew up so fast, didn' t they?'

They' re puppies, so yes, they did. Number Four and Six are off tomorrow.'

He nodded and gulped and she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

I' m fine, I' m good,' he said. I' ll get over it.'

Four and Six departed, followed by Five, Three and Seven. Then only one remained Number Eight, the last on all counts.

You did great,' Rachel told Freckles one Saturday afternoon. Not too much discipline, not too little. Not too much pining over them, either. You let them go. That' s very sensible.' She hugged Freckles, then cupped her hands about the dog' s face.

I expect you' d rather go to the vet now and get fixed. Let' s