The Overconfident Midwife

Animals litter. Generally, human beings are not required in the scene of action. Ask Puddy. But once in a while we all have to jump in!

Dinky, our black lab, was the kind who demanded the family to stand attendance when she was doing something so important as littering.

Dinky had been blessed with buck teeth and flattened paws due to calcium deficiency. In fact, we had selected her because she was last of the litter and had looked incapable of dealing with the competition from her siblings.

When Dinky turned five she realized that we were incapable of finding a good partner for her. She was tired of waiting and decided to take charge on her own. She had made up her mind to have pups and so she lured in our neighbour’s lab and tolerated him for exactly half a day. The very next day she failed to recognize poor bemused Glay!

Dinky wanted pups and since no ‘Baby and Childcare’ was available she decided that she would pick up tips from our outhouse dog Joku.

Joku was immensely tolerant and allowed Dinky to investigate. Unfortunately, Joku, decided to litter under the clump of banana plants in our backyard. Dinky decided littering was possible under banana plants!

We had almost zero experience but we all geared up for the D day. When we found Dinky was determined to litter under the clump of banana plants, we enthusiastically uprooted some banana saplings and converted our living room to a makeshift labour room, complete with a mini banana plantation. We had a close friend’s mother on the hotline. We dashed around making hot water and locating scissors and towels, though truth to say, we had no idea what we were supposed to do with these essentials we were supposed to keep handy!

True to form our Lady Buck-teeth finally began to litter soon after midnight. It was the morning of 23^rd January. She thought she could do it while walking around! We followed her, waiting to take the catch before the new born hit the cold floor! First born was Micro. Contrary to the popular belief, she was the tiniest of the litter. Dinky made a poor job of tearing open the sac but did manage. The second and the last were relatively fine but the third Grizzly remained in the sac and my better half had the dubious distinction of cutting open the sac! It took a while before Grizzly took in his first gulp of air.

More was yet to come. Dinky was quite fascinated by her achievements and was in no mood to severe her umbilical cord connection with her last but one pup! (She was busy admiring her second one who scrambling over pillows and was immediately named Bacchi after the mountaineer Bachandari Pal.) The poor little thing was getting strangled by the umbilical cord and was turning all shades of blue. No amount of coaxing or cajoling could persuade Dinky to do the needful. Ultimately the umbilical cord had to be snipped off by our resident midwife! Last but not the least was Rombi, the cutest pup with the pinkest tongue. The family was complete – three black and two white pups – each a little smaller than their mother’s paw.

 

There is so much to narrate about Dinky and her family… but today is not the day. This is not even the story of Gibly who lived to litter just once and adored her baby more than any mom I know of – two or four legged. This is more to do with the midwife who became too proud.

If I have heard it once, I have heard it a million times about how expertly the delivery of Grizzly and Spotty had been handled. To really drive it home, poor Spotty’s navel, which looked like an over-sized badge, would be displayed to all and sundry. Spotty, as much a show off as his midwife, enjoyed the fuss. I am sure there was a tinge of regret that the services of the midwife were not required more frequently.

 

 

Years passed. One late evening it was Gibly’s turn. It was her first litter though she was not a very young cat.

Problem arose as she could not oust her baby. Little did we know that there was just one kitten occupying the entire space. It was not surprising that labour was difficult and to make matters worse it was the tail and not the head sticking out.

Just when we were at our wit’s end, the experienced midwife returned home from office and took charge. The idea of going to the vet was abandoned as it would be too far. Instead water was boiled, hands scrubbed and various implements sterilized. If a green gown and cap had been available I am sure it would have been put to good use.

This time the audience was several years older so more doubtful about the entire procedure. They watched fascinated as their father tried to pull out the kitten. I decided I did NOT want to see anything! I jumped out of my skin when I heard terrible ear splitting screams in chorus. I turned around to find my husband shocked and pale, (mouth still half-open) holding a tiny tail in his hand!

Needless to say, next moment Gibly was being rushed to the vet. We never expected the night to end well but it did. Gibly came home with her extra large kitten who was born with her eyes open! There was some initial fear of her being blind but thankfully it was not so. Tinku remains our very special cat with just a quarter tail – one of our little miracles.