We moved to a whelp-den, early. Obedient First Eyes has been so publicly restless that 6-Notch Hardy First Eyes Rise has recommended she start whelp-leave early. It is strange to be whelping so alone. Last time we whelped, we had a den-pack. That is, after all, what whelp-dens are for, dogs who do not have a den-pack to keep pups warm and to provision the whelper. We have had plenty of offers (Obedient First Eyes attracts so many dogs) but we have politely refused. Obedient First Eyes is determined, and I will be guided by her. Maybe other dogs would be guided by her, but we do not have time to find them out and persuade them. The pups will be here in another twentieth-season^. We will be expected to return to our den after that. We must find a way to tunnel out now.
Obedient First Eyes and I dig all day and night, sleeping in the tunnel when we grow exhausted. I feel the pups moving under her skin, they are as restless as their sweller. Several times a day, we check the whelp-suite. No-dog would come in, it would be too invasive. We have distributed a lot of the dirt from the tunnel into a thick, compacted layer on the floor of the whelp-chamber, but we have not exactly hidden our digging.
We are taking a break. Obedient First Eyes is beside me, having fallen instantly to sleep, twitching in her night-walks, pups twitching in theirs. I leave a scent-mark for her. I want to get something for the pups to know our home world. I slink quickly to our usual den and approach the comfort-unit. I decant a large amount of Soil into a cache-pouch and briskly return. This is true Soil. I want some for my pups.
When I get back, Obedient First Eyes is up and digging. I send her soft comfort through the pack-bond, but it hits a solid wall. She has slammed down her defences and I cannot reach her without speaking.
“My spots, I am sorry I left you. I just needed to get something for the pups. If we manage to leave, I want them to have Soil for their comfort-units, or whatever we can make for them.”
“Why?”
“Because we are still dogs, my Soil and World”
“But what does that mean? How could Soil even care about us? Is anything we’ve been told true?” I have no reply. I just join her digging and send her what warmth I can.
We have hit a wall. We cannot see it or smell it, but we can feel it. It is a barrier that nothing can cross. She threw herself against it over and over. I had to beg her to stop for the sake of the pups within her. I have tried to dig round it, but it is bigger than I can dig. Without any form of shoring, I am not confident to dig any further. We are sitting in the large chamber we have dug by the barrier and thinking. Obedient First Eyes is a genius. I know she will figure out how to cross the barrier and we can be a pack.
She stands, frustrated and runs at the barrier again, teeth bared and claws out. Her body crumples as she hits the barrier.
( The pups, my Soil! )
( So what? If we cannot escape why would we have them? If I can’t get out, they will die in me. ) Her words sizzle down the pack-bond as liquid, hot fury. I reel and can’t catch my breath. I can barely understand what she is suggesting. I sling my cache-pouch with my prize from the comfort-unit and shake it a little to activate the scent. I hope it will calm her even a small amount. I try to bring the opening of the pouch to her nose, but she flicks it away and it spills on the ground. I desperately try to gather it together and get it back into the pouch. She grabs the pouch by the exposed bottom and throws it all over me.
I never thought I would experience being covered in Soil again. It should be joyous. The scent seeps through my nostrils and into my stomach and soul. I glow but I also break. She is angry with me. Is this the pups? Some dogs have problems when they are whelping. Has it been the pups all this time? Her questioning of everything? I try to approach her, and she shoves me away. I tumble against the barrier but feel just the Sour-soil behind it. She rounds on me; I think she will pounce. She suddenly doubles up and grunts. Gory, lifegiving, iron-rich blood and fluid pours from her. The pups are coming.
She looks at me in rage, like I caused this. The pups will all be here in a matter of degrees^. It is too early; we won’t be free. What will she do? I briefly head to the barrier and try to put my paw across it. I scrape away the Sour-soil beyond it. My paw, with Soil on it, passes through the barrier. I send the information to her with relief and calm. She looks at me again, confused, thinking I am tricking her. I demonstrate but, as the Soil-dust falls from my fur, I am not able to penetrate the barrier anymore. She howls. I flinch, no-dog would investigate a howl from a whelp-suite but I fear what any-dog would make of this miasma. Spilled Soil, piles of dirt, blood and fluid soaking into the ground.
Quicker than I have ever thought before, I rub the blood and fluid into the Soil and make a mud. I rub my front legs and face in it. Obedient First Eyes does without me pushing a thought to her. Our front paws and legs are caked. We dig furiously, avoiding the mud puddle we made with what we flick aside. When the space on the far side is big enough for us to fit into, we roll and take whatever Soil-mud there is on our coats and jump over the barrier. Here, I kick forward and dig on as much as I can, the Soil falling from our bodies and mixing with the dirt we can push back over the barrier.
Obedient First Eyes is in pain. Contractions are wracking her. She is whimpering. I have never heard that sound from her and it unnerves me even more than what we are doing. I dig furiously. The whelp-suite she manoeuvred into getting, was an undesirable one at the edge of the den-complex and not deep. So, as long as we keep digging this way, we should break through to the surface before the pups come. My brave warrior, high-ranked and beautiful is brought weak and whimpering by this pain. This is not what happened last time she whelped.
I must dig. I frantically struggle to go both further away and up, to reach the surface. There we will be able to get provision and water for Obedient First Eyes. The things that would be provided by Pack. At first she is digging with me, but soon we fall into a rhythm of me breaking ground and her pushing it behind us in the tunnel. We have to keep pushing it behind, it is obviously not crossing the barrier any more, the space to dig is cramped and claustrophobic. I’m not an experienced digger but I feel the panic in my champion, and know I must keep going.
I have dug for at least a degree. I start to smell fresh air. We don’t have long left. She lets out a howl. She tries to stifle it. Howls from outside the barrier would definitely alert Pack. She looks panicked and I see the head of a pup protruding from her. It is dark, covered in mucus and moving its tiny mouth. I cannot smell them yet, just Obedient First Eyes’s blood. I burst forward and break the surface. I dig a wider hole to let her out. I haul her out and the pup falls from her into the churned earth. Obedient First Eyes growls and whimpers as I jump into the hole to try and pull the pup out.
I am scrabbling and the dirt is falling further. The little pup is making small sounds. She is covered in dirt, I don’t know her smell, I am following the scent of Obedient First Eyes’s blood down and down. What am I doing? I am a Soil parent. What do you do when a pup is lost? Don’t panic. Just move slowly and calmly. If you can hear it, then it is alive. Almost as soon as I stop scrabbling, I see a nose poking from the soil. I grab her by her head and I take her, carefully, to the surface.
As we breach the surface together, I see Obedient First Eyes pushing out the 8th pup to the ground. She lies down immediately and is asleep. I understand why. No-dog has had such a difficult birth that I have heard of. I drop the lost pup amongst her litter-mates and start to groom them. I make sure they are all breathing, warm, dry and able to relieve themselves. Once they are all cleaned, I nudge them where their instincts are already leading them, to the oozing milk from Obedient First Eyes’s swollen nipples.
Finally, content that they are all safe and sleeping, I curl around the pups opposite Obedient First Eyes, so we form a warm, safe circle. I am unable to keep sniff^. I do not let myself deep-sleep so I will be awoken by anything that approaches.