going to make it. When she woke up, the sun was streaming through her windows. It was late!
Lizzie pulled a sweatshirt on over her pajamas and ran downstairs. “Can we call Ms. Dobbins?” she asked Mom, before she even said good morning.
“I’ve already spoken to her.” Mom put down the newspaper she was reading.
Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut, held her breath, and crossed her fingers tight.
“The puppy made it through the night,” Mom said.
Lizzie opened her eyes and let out a big whoosh of breath.
Mom smiled at her. “In fact, she’s doing great. Once Dr. Gibson helped Ms. Dobbins get the puppy used to the bottle feeding, she ate and ate—every two hours!” Mom pushed back her chair and got up to pour herself more coffee. “Dr. Gibson said it’s not unusual for puppies to get stronger very quickly once they start eating well,” she said.
“Oh, Mom. She made it!” Lizzie threw her arms around her mother.
“You were really worried about her, weren’t you?” Mom said.
Lizzie nodded. “Can we go see her today?” she asked.
“Well,” said Mom, “that’s the next piece of news. When Ms. Dobbins called, she told me that she has realized that she just can’t take care of a newborn puppy and also do her job.She was up practically all night, and she is exhausted.”
“But what will happen to the puppy?” Lizzie pushed away from her mom and stared up at her.
Mom put her hands on Lizzie’s shoulders. She smiled. “We’re going to take her,” she said.
Lizzie stared at her mother, speechless.
“We can split up the work. It’s too much for one person, but if Dad and I and you and Charles all help out, I think we can manage.” Mom raised her eyebrows. “What do you think?”
“I think — I think it’s great!” Lizzie finally managed to get some words out. She was so surprised that Mom had agreed to take the puppy. This would really be something new, to foster such a young puppy. Lizzie was excited — and scared. Fostering other puppies had sometimes been a little bit challenging, but mostly it had been great fun. This was different. Taking care of a newborn seemed like such a big responsibility.What if the girl puppy died, the way her brothers had?
But when Ms. Dobbins came over with the puppy, Lizzie was too busy to be scared. There was so much to learn! How to mix up the formula, and heat it to the perfect temperature. How to poke the right-size holes in the baby bottle’s nipple. How to keep the puppy’s box clean by changing the newspaper, and how to keep the puppy clean by wiping her with a soft, damp cloth. How to set up a lamp and a hot water bottle to keep the puppy warm —but not
too
warm. And how to mix up a mess of soaked puppy chow and water. Ms. Dobbins called it “slurry,” and Lizzie and Mom would have to start feeding it to the puppy. Each day she would get a little more slurry and a little less formula. That was called “weaning,” and with luck the puppy would not need the bottle much longer. Ms. Dobbins talked Mom and Lizzie through it all. (Dad had taken Charles and Buddyand the Bean out for the day, so the puppy’s homecoming would be quieter.)
The girl puppy did look much, much better. Her belly was round and full and she actually seemed to have grown in the hours since Lizzie had last seen her. She cried a lot — probably because she missed her mom and her brothers — but she also moved around more, staggering uncertainly on her little legs, with her tiny, pointed tail sticking straight up in the air.
“Go ahead and pick her up,” Ms. Dobbins urged Lizzie. “It’s good for her to be handled now.”
“Really?” Lizzie had never felt nervous about holding a puppy before. Carefully, gently, she picked the puppy up and held her close to her chest. Lizzie could feel the puppy’s heart beating fast. “It’s okay, little one,” she murmured. “It’s okay.” She felt her own heart fill with love for this tiny thing, all alone in the world. The
Lizzie pulled a sweatshirt on over her pajamas and ran downstairs. “Can we call Ms. Dobbins?” she asked Mom, before she even said good morning.
“I’ve already spoken to her.” Mom put down the newspaper she was reading.
Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut, held her breath, and crossed her fingers tight.
“The puppy made it through the night,” Mom said.
Lizzie opened her eyes and let out a big whoosh of breath.
Mom smiled at her. “In fact, she’s doing great. Once Dr. Gibson helped Ms. Dobbins get the puppy used to the bottle feeding, she ate and ate—every two hours!” Mom pushed back her chair and got up to pour herself more coffee. “Dr. Gibson said it’s not unusual for puppies to get stronger very quickly once they start eating well,” she said.
“Oh, Mom. She made it!” Lizzie threw her arms around her mother.
“You were really worried about her, weren’t you?” Mom said.
Lizzie nodded. “Can we go see her today?” she asked.
“Well,” said Mom, “that’s the next piece of news. When Ms. Dobbins called, she told me that she has realized that she just can’t take care of a newborn puppy and also do her job.She was up practically all night, and she is exhausted.”
“But what will happen to the puppy?” Lizzie pushed away from her mom and stared up at her.
Mom put her hands on Lizzie’s shoulders. She smiled. “We’re going to take her,” she said.
Lizzie stared at her mother, speechless.
“We can split up the work. It’s too much for one person, but if Dad and I and you and Charles all help out, I think we can manage.” Mom raised her eyebrows. “What do you think?”
“I think — I think it’s great!” Lizzie finally managed to get some words out. She was so surprised that Mom had agreed to take the puppy. This would really be something new, to foster such a young puppy. Lizzie was excited — and scared. Fostering other puppies had sometimes been a little bit challenging, but mostly it had been great fun. This was different. Taking care of a newborn seemed like such a big responsibility.What if the girl puppy died, the way her brothers had?
But when Ms. Dobbins came over with the puppy, Lizzie was too busy to be scared. There was so much to learn! How to mix up the formula, and heat it to the perfect temperature. How to poke the right-size holes in the baby bottle’s nipple. How to keep the puppy’s box clean by changing the newspaper, and how to keep the puppy clean by wiping her with a soft, damp cloth. How to set up a lamp and a hot water bottle to keep the puppy warm —but not
too
warm. And how to mix up a mess of soaked puppy chow and water. Ms. Dobbins called it “slurry,” and Lizzie and Mom would have to start feeding it to the puppy. Each day she would get a little more slurry and a little less formula. That was called “weaning,” and with luck the puppy would not need the bottle much longer. Ms. Dobbins talked Mom and Lizzie through it all. (Dad had taken Charles and Buddyand the Bean out for the day, so the puppy’s homecoming would be quieter.)
The girl puppy did look much, much better. Her belly was round and full and she actually seemed to have grown in the hours since Lizzie had last seen her. She cried a lot — probably because she missed her mom and her brothers — but she also moved around more, staggering uncertainly on her little legs, with her tiny, pointed tail sticking straight up in the air.
“Go ahead and pick her up,” Ms. Dobbins urged Lizzie. “It’s good for her to be handled now.”
“Really?” Lizzie had never felt nervous about holding a puppy before. Carefully, gently, she picked the puppy up and held her close to her chest. Lizzie could feel the puppy’s heart beating fast. “It’s okay, little one,” she murmured. “It’s okay.” She felt her own heart fill with love for this tiny thing, all alone in the world. The
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