Posted on September 15, 2011 by: WayCoolDogs

She was a pure-white poodle, and very pregnant. When I approached and opened the cage door she looked at me brightly, and I waited for her to get up, till I realized she was already standing.  Laughing at myself, I reached in and lifted her out, and she immediately settled herself in my arms.  Not what I expected at all. Most dogs will struggle a little at first, because they don’t know why they have been picked up.  Not Juliette.  She knew.  She was perfectly comfortable, and as we went along the walkway between the other cages, to reach the outside yard, she looked round and ‘smiled’ at me.   

Once outside I set her on the ground and could get a good look at her as she trotted around.  The top of her was definitely poodle, with the little pointed face and curly white fur.  But the bottom of her seemed to be corgi, as her legs were only a few inches long, and it was made more obvious by a pregnancy which had thickened her whole torso. 

She had a few matts, especially around her tail, but once we got rid of those, her condition wasn’t bad, except for quite a lot of ticks, but they said she couldn’t have a tick bath because of the pregnancy.  I learned that a street dog had jumped her and the owners sent her away because they didn’t want mongrel puppies, but I still found it difficult to believe that they could have given up such a delightful little creature. 

She was such a happy little girl.  We would walk around in the car-park, me ambling slowly along while her little legs were going ninety to the dozen, but she never wanted to stop, and wagged all the way, wherever we went, whether through the bananas, around the roots of the bougainvillea bushes, or right up against the chain-link fence, where she could see the traffic going to and fro.  Her little head bounced from side to side, as if she wanted to see and appreciate everything. 

And when I thought she had had enough exercise and picked her up, she again immediately settled in my arms, and never wriggled or squirmed. 

After each walk we did a tick-picking exercise, and as I pulled them off, showed them to her and killed them she kept rewarding me with little kisses on my wrists and arms.  Then I would start combing her fur, and she would roll over luxuriously, showing me her swollen tummy, which she loved to have rubbed.  

I had no idea how far along she was, and no one else seemed to know either, so I secretly hoped that we would have lots of time together before the puppies arrived.  But one afternoon when I approached her cage I saw she was lying in the far corner.  When I opened the door she struggled over to me, with distress written all over her face, edged as close to me as she could and lay down. 

I called over one of the workers, and was told she was in labour, but I was disturbed by the colour of the crusty discharge, as it didn’t seem normal.  I asked him to call the vet, and a little later when no one came, I went and got him myself.  He didn’t like the way she looked either, and asked me to bring her into the surgery room, where he did a thorough examination.  The diagnosis was one puppy – a large one – which she hadn’t been able to push out.  

In my innocence I presumed they would immediately do a C Section and spay her while they were at it, but he told me that, sadly, since she had no owner, and there was no one to pay for such a costly procedure, it was unlikely that ‘management’ would authorize the surgery.  And so it was.  The most he could do was give her an injection to try to get the contractions going, and I took her back to her cage.

I stayed with her as long as I could, till closing time, talking to her, cradling her head, rubbing her tummy and encouraging her to push, but I could see she didn’t have the energy or the will.  She could barely lift her head enough to lick my fingers, as always thanking me for any little attention I gave her.  I tried to convey to her as much love and comfort as I could but eventually I had to go, and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t see her the next day.  I was right.  

The following morning I was in my garden and saw, for the first time in ages, a dragonfly, my favourite flying creature, and knew it was Juliette telling me she was free. When I checked later, it was exactly the time she had been put down.

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Guest Post by Cindi Scholefield, a volunteer at the local animal shelter in Kingston, Jamaica. For any donations to Cindi and her dogs, please send to:
Eunice Crompton-Nicholas
c/o
Harry Dufour
9330 Dunhill Drive
Miramar
Florida 33025-3869

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