And then there were seven

“Raw love, like raw heartache, could blindside you.” Jodi Picoult

I hadn't had a litter of puppies for three years when Cinder's litter was planned, and after waiting that long to have a litter, I was beyond excited to welcome them into the world. Watching them come into the world, take their first breath and blossom into unique creatures is giving birth to a dream. I wanted to protect them all, keep them safe, shelter them. But I couldn't.

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Never was a dog as aptly named as Feist. We called her Feisty girl, and her name came quite naturally when,  at one week of age, I picked her up and she growled at me. Click the video below to watch.



Later on, when her eyes were barely open at ten-days old, I carried her out to the big dog yard to begin acclimating the puppies to the sounds and smells of the kennel. As the adult dogs barked excitedly, tiny Feist growled at them, apparently unaware of her size. She was the female runt, so tiny, but her attitude was big. She had so much personality. When the other puppies toppled over her, she got up and barked at them angrily, as if to say, "Hey! Back off!"

Feist at two weeks

Feist at four weeks

Feist at eight weeks

It was from one of these episodes that Feist emerged from the puppy play pile limping one day, right around the time Mojo was becoming sick but before we knew what he had. I brought her in the house but tried to isolate her to my bedroom, away from Mojo who was in the living room. I rubbed her shoulder with liniment like a big sled dog at a race. She seemed to love being bedroom puppy.

Little Feist resting on my bed

She learned lots of things, like what a computer was...

Feist sitting at my desk with me

... how to snuggle

Cozied up on my bed

...and how to pass time in close quarters with her people.

Feist and Elise playing

She missed her siblings, but I figured in just a few days, she would be outside with them again.

When we received the diagnosis of parvo with Mojo, Feist had already come in contact with the virus through our clothes. I braced myself for the worst when he died. She seemed to recover from the shoulder injury and was playing and doing well, when she suddenly vomited. My heart dropped to my stomach.

Feisty girl

Without skipping a beat, I kicked medication into gear, starting subcutaneous fluids, Amoxicillin and Metronidozole. I contacted my family vet and we made a trip in again, this time for Reglan, an anti-nausea drug. She weighed 9 pounds and 14 ounces. I was hopeful. We were going to beat this together. Feist was strong. She was Feist, after all. She was far healthier than Mojo was when he contracted parvo, and she was a fighter.

Feist received about 50 ml of subq fluids every 12 hours to prevent dehydration

We fought hard together for eight days, through Feist's vomiting and horrendous diarrhea. I stayed up with her 'round the clock because, luckily, I was between terms at the college and had nothing but Feist to care for. I sunk everything I had into her. We slept together for two solid weeks.

And then, finally, the puking stopped. And slowly, the diarrhea stopped. Her appetite returned. I was overjoyed. But then, joy turned to panic when her temperature soared to 105.1. A temp of 106 can have fatal effects for dogs. Dogs release body heat in two ways: panting, and through their paw pads. I put her in a tub of cool water just over her ankles to attempt to quell the scorching fever; she lapped up water heartily from the tap. I rubbed alcohol on her paw pads. I called the vet. They recommended 1/2 of a baby aspirin, which I gave to Feist. Her appetite left as surely as it had returned.

Then slowly it seemed we rounded another corner. Her temperature gradually lowered to 103, then 102. Her appetite returned. She ate; she drank. She even wagged her tail at me. Again, I was elated. Only I noticed her laboring to breathe. I thought she possibly had developed aspirate pneumonia from the times I had forced her to drink with a syringe. I called my vet again.

On Monday afternoon, Feist and I again drove to the vet, but she was really laboring to breathe. She groaned when I touched her, and even whined when I picked her up. I grew very concerned. It didn't occur to me that our ride to the vet might not end well.

Feist was down two pounds. My vet listened carefully to her breathing through a stethoscope. She recommended a chest x-ray and a blood draw to check her white count levels. I opted to start with the blood draw.

I waited just a few minutes in the room with Feist, watching her breathe, her eyes sunk in, and a slow realization began to take over me. Feist may not leave.

The doctor returned to tell me shocking news. Feist's white blood count was 0.01. I shook my head in disbelief. She was doing better! She ate and drank well just the day before. How could this be?

Mojo's white count was 2 when he died; Feist's was below that, and she was still fighting. But her little body could not fight anymore. It had used all of its limited resources and there was nothing left. My vet said even if they kept her and gave her IV antibiotics, her expectancy of recovering was 1% and she may need a blood transfusion. Faced with this prognosis, I made the extremely difficult decision to have my vet end her suffering.

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How can such a small creature teach me so much? About fighting; about loving. What are the lessons here? I think there are many.

In the time since Mojo was first diagnosed with parvo, I have read a lot about this insidious virus. I wanted to be one of those "My dog beat parvo" stories. But not all stories have a happy ending.

I have learned a lot from talking with others who have experienced this devastating virus too. And what I know is this:

1. It is hearty. It can live in soil for months or even years, and despite vaccinations, some dogs can contract the virus. My puppies had two vaccinations when they contracted it.
2. It is sneaky. Feist made a bold move into what looked like recovery, only to slump deeper into the illness in a way that left me feeling raw, helpless and debilitatingly sad. According to my vet, this is common with parvo. Riding the emotional highs and lows with Feist was exhausting. 
3. I can't stress this enough: it is hearty. And it is crafty. When Feist showed signs of the virus, I received a very long email from mushing friend Roy Smith and detailed instructions from my vet about decontamination. 
• The only thing that can kill parvo that is reasonably priced is bleach: 1 cup per 1 gallon of hot water. In the week that Feist fought this virus, I decontaminated every solid surface in my kennel with this solution: bowls, buckets, poop scoop; I scrubbed the puppy pen, which is lined with landscape bricks, four times with hot bleach water. 
• Pay attention to your clothes! We bleached the bottoms of all of our shoes. And I wore "parvo" clothes with Feist and "non-parvo clothes" out into the kennels. I scrubbed my hands AND face when moving from contact with Feist to contact with the rest of the kennel. These are precautions I DIDN'T take when Mojo was first in the house because I didn't know what we were dealing with. 

Parvo is something I wouldn't wish on anyone. The "Ebola" of the dog world, it virtually eats away at the gastrointestinal tract until it becomes liquefied. Its victim, gripped with nausea, cannot keep anything down; vomiting and extreme, often bloody diarrhea cause rapid dehydration and anemia. And despite subq fluids, rapid dehydration is almost inevitable. As my vet explained, the parvo strips the GI track to such a degree that liquid can leak into the body, filling the lungs, surrounding the heart, and rendering the victim potentially septic. This is what she suspected happened to Feist, and why she was laboring to breathe.

I thought Feist was healthier than Mojo. I thought I had all of the medications and IV fluids, we had a jump on fighting the virus, and I was armed with more knowledge. I thought we could beat it. I thought "This is Feisty girl! The girl who growled at the adult dogs in the dog lot when she was 10 days old! If anyone can beat this, Feist can!"

The kennel lost a 12 week old champion yesterday. I miss her so, so much, and I have cried from grief about not only the loss of Feist, but the loss, now, of two of my pups, and just how very scary this virus is.

I am devastated. Perhaps it is because she slept with me every night, in the nook of my shoulder and neck, for two weeks, but I am taking her death very hard. She seemed to constantly want to be near me in those final days. Some might say "Jeez, it's only a pup," or "it's only a dog" or "it's only..." But, this has completely blindsided me.

Feist, snuggled in my shoulder. This is where she liked to sleep. 

Every day when I go out to the puppy pen to the seven other crazy, healthy monsters, I thank God for them and all of their craziness, for that's how puppies are supposed to be.

I will never, ever forget my Feisty girl. I love you Feist.

For Feist: July 28, 2014 - October 20, 2014

“This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried forsomething.” Elizabeth Gilbert

This is a sad story. It is one I debated on even writing, but there are lessons to be learned here, so I decided to share. This is Mojo's story. 

Mojo is a very special puppy born on July 28, 2014 from Cinder. Even though he is gone, I cannot bring myself to write about him in past tense. 

His father, Elrond, is a champion lead dog from the home of one of my best friends, Sharon Curtice, up in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Mojo is a runt, like his father. 

I hate that word - "runt." Runt, small thing, weakling, underling. Such a negative connotation. There was nothing small about Mojo. There is nothing small about his father either. 

From the very beginning, Mojo was special. I called him my little freckled boy. 

Mojo at one week

He had the most adorable speckled nose, and seemed to be split with a little stitch from God right down the center, from the middle of his forehead, right down his belly. And he was super relaxed and flexible. 

Puppy Yoga, Mojo style

From the very moment Mojo was born, he was different. When I first wormed the puppies at 10 days of age with Pyrantel, a relatively well-tolerated, gentle wormer, he reacted strangely. His belly became distended and he cried and cried for hours. I felt helpless. Finally, he settled down.

When his eyes opened a few days later, I noticed something else that was different about Mojo. 

Mirage (left) and Mojo (right). His right eye was "off" - puppy "lazy eye"

 And yet, he grew and thrived at the farm. 

Mojo at two weeks

Mojo at four weeks

Mojo at seven weeks

He still had that "lazy eye" but he was thriving and blossomed into a gorgeous boy who wasn't that much smaller than the others. Suddenly, he was my favorite pup. He had a fantastic attitude, and though he was small, he was always at the front of the puppy pack on our jaunts around the puppy paths. Before long, Mojo quickly stole my heart. 

He quickly became Elise's favorite too, and we doted over him, bickering over who would get to hold him. She usually won :)

Handsome Mojo at 8 weeks

I gave the puppies their first vaccinations on September 22. By September 30, I noticed Mojo was off.  He had loose stools, and seemed listless, stopping to nap soon after I let the puppies out of their pen. While the other puppies were busy racing around, Mojo found quiet places to rest, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of puppy playtime. I brought him inside, kept him warm, fed him bland foods like rice and chicken. He was still eating well, He would perk up, only to fall into a slump again.

Finally, last Sunday, I contacted friends and race veterinarian husband-wife team, Kathy and Phil Topham. Phil was kind enough to see us on a Sunday morning. I suspected something called coccidia, which usually presents with foul-smelling, sometimes bloody diarrhea and lethargy - Mojo's symptoms. Dr. Topham ran a test for coccidia and it was positive. He opened a can of Prescription Diet A/D and Mojo lapped it up heartily. We left with Albon, several cans of A/D and were relieved, ready for Mojo to be on the mend. Mojo weighed 8.5 pounds.

Only things got worse. He stopped eating almost completely. We began force feeding/hydrating him. After several days on Albon, his condition deteriorated. We switched to Metronidazole.

I made an appointment with my regular vet for some tests and subcutaneous fluids for Mojo. A test for giardia came back negative, but what I feared the most - the test for Parvo - came back positive. And not just a little positive. The test operates like a pregnancy test, with a bubble turning blue if positive. It was bright blue. In the words of our vet, it glowed.

A blood panel also showed his white count was two, and the vet was concerned he was already septic. He had a heart murmur - something that had developed since Sunday.

Still he fought. We gave him 50 ml of saline fluids at the vet's office, and he sat up and tried to scratch the needle away. We flushed Amoxicillin and B-12 vitamins into the IV to try to jump start therapy. Mojo was down to 7.4 pounds.

We went home with a bag of fluids, lots of needles, and Amoxicillin prepared for a long night.

Only Mojo had other plans.

When we woke at 7:15 this morning, Mojo was gone. His little body could take no more.

Burying a puppy is just ... wrong. And yet, the deeper I get into dogs, the more of a reality it seems. Stuff happens. Life is fragile. Tenuous.

What I know is this: when Googling "Parvo Symptoms," vomiting invariably comes up. This symptom doesn't necessarily have to be present. Mojo's symptoms did not include vomiting at all - only very foul-smelling watery diarrhea, anorexia (lack of appetite), and lethargy.

What I also know is Mojo became sick despite being vaccinated.

What I also know as of the time of this writing is: all nine of Mojo's litter mates are thriving, with voracious appetites and minds full of mischief.

What I also know is, I keep replaying the last two weeks of Mojo's life in my mind, wondering if there was something I didn't do, should have done differently, could have done better.

But what I am left with are sad thoughts of a future lost. Mojo will never get to know what it's like to run with a team of sled dogs on the beautiful snow under the night stars. I'll never get to see him blossom into the leader I had a hunch he would have become. I'll never get to see him grow into his big feet.

I am so sorry, Mojo. You fought valiantly, and I did all I could. I love you.

Elise holding Mojo

For Mojo. July 28, 2014 - October 11, 2014

“When you leave,
weary of me,
without a word I shall gently let you go.” 
 -- Kim Sowol

Puppy Update

I'm beginning to think the Ohio tourism slogan "so much to discover!" was written with puppies and not Ohio in mind. The puppies - a.k.a. the "little monsters" - were seven weeks old this week and have settled into their home outside in their own private kennel run with mama, Cinder. Every day they spend hours outside of the dog kennel ...discovering. And it seems, like some fish and reptiles do, the puppies have also grown tremendously to adapt to their bigger space.

Halo, also sleeping in the dirt under the propane tank...

And they are increasingly adventurous. On our daily puppy outings at the ranch, they venture around the property, wagging at the other dogs...

Buddha brazenly barks at kennel patriarch, Yeti

...running along the puppy paths ... 

Elise: official puppy trainer/herder

and making other discoveries like garden hoses...

Halo and the garden hose

...giant holes dug by the other dogs out of summer boredom ...

Buddha and Halo rest inside one of Tosh's giant excavation projects

...chickens...

"Come here, chicken!"

...and even coffee! 

Blaze slurping from my coffee mug

They have discovered that pulling on your sister's tail is great fun....

BIG BROTHERS! UGH!

...and how to annoy your very big brothers...

Three-year-old, Tosh, rolls his eyes at me as if to say, "mom, can you make the toddlers go away?"

...and the joys of running...

Cisco 

There are more puppy portraits on the Diamond Dogs Facebook Page

Sweet dreams ....

and, as always...

Struggle in the Whelping Room

There is a struggle going on in the whelping room. These 10 spirited tiny canines may be blind and deaf, but they are certainly not helpless!

Newborn puppies are born functionally deaf and blind with their ear canals and eyelids sealed shut.  They are essentially mostly mouth and programmed instinctively to do one thing: eat. At all costs.

Cinder and her family resting on day two

The gestation period for dogs is short: just 63 days on average. Dogs are hunters by nature, and part of the reason they are born deaf and blind can be explained by their hunting instinct. Simply put, getting the pups out of the mother's belly and onto the ground as quickly as possible aids in mom's ability to hunt and feed herself and her offspring. When pups are born, their eyes, ears and critical parts of their brain are still forming. Despite their birth, the eyes, brain and hearing still needs about another 10 days to two weeks to develop. Even when the eyes and ears do open, they're not perfectly formed yet and will require another few weeks to fully develop.

Newborn puppies are born deaf and blind. Pictured here is Halo, center gray pup

Cinder's pregnancy lasted exactly 63 days from the first breeding. But her kids are hardwired for survival, as this video will show. Right now, 10 pups are competing for eight nipples, and sometimes things get tense. Even while nursing, the puppies growl and push each other off the nipple, each jockeying for the lion's share of Cinder's milk.

from the whelping room. Kinda...grrr!


YOU CAN WATCH VIDEOS FROM THE WHELPING ROOM! CLICK HERE!

Happy Birth Day to Cinder!

Please help me welcome Cinder's babies who were very long-awaited!

Cinder, tired after whelping NINE little ones! 

Cinder wasn't hugely pregnant. I thought there were maybe four or five pups. 

After the fifth was born, I could still feel a puppy lump inside of Cinder's belly. Okay, I thought. Six is a good number. 

But they kept coming. And coming! 

By this afternoon, Cinder finished with nine new babies - six boys and three girls. They all seem to be about the same size and are doing well, as is mama. 

There are three who are a very different shade of silverish-gray who look very unique. One already has a name: Mirage. 

Mirage resting peacefully in Cinder's bunch of puppy love

All is well, and good night...shhh, puppies are sleeping. 

 from the whelping room. 

CORRECTION: there are now 10 puppies! 4 girls and 6 boys 

What's up with whelping: we're itching for puppies!

With puppies due in a little over two weeks, Cinder has been readying herself for motherhood. Mother Nature does a fantastic job of equipping animals with all they need to take care of themselves and their offspring when they have babies. But there's nothing wrong with a little help, so I have also been preparing for Cinder's babies. When the Reggae Litter made its debut at the Ranch in July of 2011, Tak welcomed our assistance.

Mama Tak nursing her litter, the Reggae pups

Some have asked what is needed to prepare for a litter of puppies. So I thought I would prepare a list of supplies I use to prepare for tiny furry canines to make their entrance into the world.

My 10 year old, Elise, and I recently finished building a whelping box that is simple in design, affordable (about $50), and made from one sheet of plywood. Here's what you need:

• One 4x8 sheet of plywood (you can use any variety and grade of wood; I chose a mid-grade for durability). $25 
• 16 feet of 1 1/2 inch PVC pipe $6.50
• 8 Metal "L" shaped brackets to connect the pieces of the whelping box $8
• 8 Plastic "J" shaped brackets to fasten PVC to the sides of the whelping box $8
• 1/2 inch decking or wood screws $5
• Circular saw
• Jigsaw
• Drill

You can cut the plywood, or have your local hardware store make the cuts for you when you purchase  it; they have the ability to make more precise cuts than I can, so I usually have the hardware store cut it for me. Cut the plywood in half, and then cut one of the halves in thirds. Now you have a 4x4 piece for the bottom (if you choose to have a bottom; I prefer not having a floor for easy cleaning) and three 1x4 pieces for the sides. You can purchase the extra 1x4 piece or do what I did, which was to cut it from the bottom...which I didn't use for a bottom. Ultimately you need four sides of 1x4 pieces. Attach these pieces together with the "L" brackets.

I borrowed a friend's whelping box when Tak had her pups three years ago. It had pig rails made the old fashioned way out of slats of wood. I chose to make pig rails from PVC pipe. Pig rails are important because, should a pup get between mama and the side of the whelping box, the rail prevents the pup from being accidentally squished.

When Elise and I were all done piecing our whelping box together, this is what it looked like. My office has now been transformed into a whelping room.

My tiny office, which is now back to being a whelping room. This is where two litters have previously whelped, as well as numerous baby chickens

Some sites suggest a huge laundry list of supplies needed to assist mama during labor. I like to keep it simple. After all, animals are keenly aware of what needs done during labor and delivery.

Here is my simple list of supplies I have on hand during labor

• Thermometer & Petroleum jelly - when mama is getting close to her due date of 63 days from the day of the first breeding, I begin taking her temperature rectally. A dog's normal temperature is around 101 degrees; just before the onset of labor, mom's temp will drop sharply to around 98. When this happens, labor is about to begin. 
• During the actual birth, I prefer to have puppy pads, the disposable pads normally used for puppy potty training, on the floor. No mess! Just toss them in the trash when mom is done giving birth.
• Clean blankets and/or towels for after the pups are born, and also for rubbing newborn pups to help stimulate breathing. I purchase the ones we use for whelping at local Goodwill or thrift stores. 
• Unwaxed dental floss - this is for tying the umbilical cord in case, for some reason, mom is not chewing it. Normally, the mother will instinctively chew the umbilical cord in half releasing the pup from its placenta. BUT if mom isn't gentle, the chewing can pull on the belly of the pup causing an umbilical hernia. Our own leader, Ruffian, had this when she was a yearling and had surgery to correct it. I like to assist mom with this part of labor when at all possible to prevent the risk of umbilical hernia. If nothing else, I like to hold each pup close to mom's mouth as she chews the umbilical to prevent too much pulling. 
• Sterile surgical scissors - for cutting the umbilical cord. These are also used later to remove dew claws. 
• Bulb syringe - Mama dog knows to lick each pup and chew the sack of membranes from its face. If, for some reason, she isn't, I like to have a bulb syringe handy to suction the mucus from each pup's nose and help stimulate breathing.
• Nutrical - this optional dietary supplement is loaded with calories and nutrients to help mom maintain strength during the hours of laboring. 
• Calsorb - like Nutrical, Calsorb contains extra calcium. When a dog whelps, if they don't have enough calcium, several things can go wrong, including postpartum eclampsia.  As a precaution, I like to give mom a little bit of Calsorb between the birth of each pup. Some substitute vanilla ice cream as well. 

Optional Whelping Items

• Digital scale for weighing puppies
• Different colored ribbon or yarn for distinguishing puppies from each other. Usually Alaskan husky pups are a wide variety of colors so this isn't necessary. 

The average gestation for a dog is 63 days from the time of breeding. Cinder was first bred on May 26, making her due date July 28.

Sled dog litters are traditionally named in themes. For example, the Reggae litter were all named after Reggae musicians, another litter born here, the Jazz litter, were all named after Jazz musicians. We have a handful of name themes rolling around, but would love suggestions! If you have a theme suggestion for Cinder's litter, please let us know in the comments section on this blog! I look forward to reading them!

Two weeks and counting...

 from the whelping room!

Sled Dog Training 101

Pulling seems to be second-nature to some sled dog pups. In my experience with training sled dog puppies, most of the time they know instinctively what to do when they're first put in harness.

Our best breeding to date has produced some great-looking pups, and two of them are already harness broken: Perry, who has four hook ups and is running like he's been doing it for ten years already, and his sister, Rasta, who ran in lead next to her dad on her very first hook up. You can see a video of that first hook up here.

Of the puppies from this litter, Perry, Tosh and Rasta, are very outgoing and affectionate. But one pup has been "different" right from the beginning. Louder and more needy than the other pups, he cried and clamored for his mother's attention with loud barks and seemingly constant whining. So naturally, from our themed-name choice of "the Reggae litter," this pup's name was a no brainer: Wailer.

Wailer at nine months

Even though Wailer has been socialized just like his siblings, he is extremely shy and skittish. It's no wonder: both his parents, Yeti and Tak, were painfully shy when I first got them. Over time and with consistent work, Yeti and Tak have emerged from their shells.

Wailer is still loose in a kennel pen rather than on a tether like the others. Until recently, anytime I would put a collar on him, he would somehow manage to chew it off. Several times I have tried working with him on a leash, and he bucked wildly like an untamed horse. Sometimes he even cries out - such is his panic.

Tonight, after free running all the other dogs, I worked with Wailer individually on sled dog training 101. I hooked him up to a long lead rope, and initially, he bucked like a wild horse. Slowly, he calmed down until he just stood next to me.

Lots of praise.

Then I started walking. He took a step, then leaped into the air as if he was trying to fly instead of walk! Finally, after a couple of attempts, he began walking normally on the lead rope.

Lots of praise.

After just 20 minutes of working with Wailer, he was walking around our "puppy paths" on a lead rope like a champ!

Training sled dogs is achieved by the same basic principles as training a pet dog to sit. With patience and lots of praise, they learn their job.

Our first step was walking on a lead rope, and I suspect Wailer maybe be a bit challenging. But once he gets the hang of pulling in harness (and I don't think it will take long), I think he has a ton of potential just like the other pups!

As always...

Puppies in training: the making of a sled dog

Sled dog training starts early: Tak's puppies are only seven weeks old, but they're already learning the basics of how to be sled dogs. I don't know how other people train dogs, but for me, puppy training starts with teaching pups the basics: that people are good and to come when I call for them.

Perry leads the puppy pack toward me down the puppy paths

Because sled dogs must work together as a team, I believe in allowing the dogs free time to interact as a pack daily. They work out their differences and, in general, they all get along very well. It's quite a sight to see a dozen or so dogs running full-throttle through our pastures, playing and wrestling!

I also believe strongly that dogs need social/play time as well as physical training throughout the year, not just during training season, so I diligently stick to a strict daily "free running" schedule for my dogs, and the puppies (especially the puppies!) are no exception. At least twice a day, I turn the pups out and work with them, handling each one, allowing them to run and play, and teaching them to run with me along our puppy paths.

Perry follows Marley, our Australian Shepherd, along our puppy paths at the Ranch

There are so many connections being formed in each of their little brains at this age, and I want as many of those connections to be as positive as possible. Dogs learn so much from each other, too: how to not bite too hard, where each one sits in the pack, how to interpret body language, and where their place is with the adult dogs.

In my opinion and experience, dogs who don't have nurturing and safe "formative" years in these critical weeks of puppihood end up having issues later in life. In order to give our dogs the best shot at forming healthy relationships with the world around them, I really try hard to offer a loving and stimulating environment for them to romp and play early on.

(from left) Toots, Tosh and Rasta explore the ruts in papa Yeti's circle

They are each so gorgeous and curious in their own ways. Tosh is quiet and gentle, Toots is affectionate and loyal, just like her sisters, Rasta and Ziggy. Perry is calm and affectionate, but Wailer - just like his name - is the loud-mouthed runt of the bunch and a mama's boy!



When they are done playing, they drift off to sleep wherever they land. Oh, to be young!
They're so trusting, so innocent. It's hard to believe they will grow up to be such amazing athletes.

It's also hard to believe Tak's beautiful puppies are already seven weeks old. Sweet dreams from sled dogs in training!