CERBERUS leWalaad

WE HAD JUST FINISHED A ROUND of pool. The holiday was wearing down and the pups, second litter of FOCCE', were rampant with mischief. She'd been returned to minimize the havoc instigated by her, a street bitch with all the mannerisms to support the title. She was a ruddy red brown pit bull standing height at 23 inches, a lower case mastiff being babysat for the year her owner was out of town. Lucky for her our bull mastiff was coming of age and found her to be most aromatic in addition to ever inspiring with her fence chasing antics. She could never be mistaken for proper. FOCCE' ran the fence all day if left outside. Ran along the fence barking and pouncing at the neighbor dogs. The other side of a four foot fence presented two papered German Sheppards with low crouched pace and perked ears, one pitch black and the other standard brown with black patching. The odd lot in that yard was a small commander of the two larger dogs. He was what resembled a Griffon... mottled grey and black sized to fit a man's boot box if he'd ever be in need of a casket. The latter idea wrought by the attitude of unwilling yard mates in their disinterest at being commanded by something so small and bossy. The Griffon nipped at their heels, bit the length of their tails and yapped his own opinion as to three response to the noisy neighbor in our yard. FOCCE' loved the confusion it all brought about. In less than eight months she was sagging low in her belly with a soon to be household addition put by BLU the bull mastiff Cane Corso gifted to our household one year prior. BLU was more laid back than FOCCE'; laid back and appreciated for being so. FOCCE: was street wise and it showed. She seemed to show him the ropes of mating egging him on at every opportunity until she had him caught and until she was showing a swaggered belly as her cast inside grew. Within a few months we had puppies. Ten grey and white reproductions of BLU, his first litter. He would be the origin of our kennel. A start of the old world extension of the molossus, a now extinct mastiff-type dog. Ours, a Cane Corso breed with origins in Italy traceable to ancient Roman molossus. BLU was calm until agitated. The first litter grew and were dispersed among family and friends for the most. The second litter was started almost unbelievably within weeks, almost as if by insemination. It brought ten healthy pups with owners ready and waiting. The following year brought BONITA and BINTA both impregnated within weeks of the other whelping a total fourteen pups of which only seven survived. Bonita lost most of her litter which sprung forth in the early morning hours supervised by her unwilling caretaker for his mother. Bonita was a bossy 2nd litter female owned by a family member who rarely stepped into our home but left her son and her dog in house. Her son resented the task of caring for the pregnant pooch. When whelping began pups were strewn across the entire basement area including beneath two shelves of tools and hardware. By the time anyone else was notified of the birthing event most puppies were already out; the last causing a shock syndrome which developed from the stress of birthing and the trauma of walking, climbing on in and around variant furnishings of the tool bench and woodworking equipment. There was blood and tissue torn and spilled on saw blades, screwdrivers and boxes of nails and fixtures. The whelping bitch was not calmed enough to stay on the prepared pad in an old pool which would have controlled any pups strong enough to move around after being born. Instead, puppies were collected from among those rough elements on and underneath workbench item and shelves. The basement was scoured under bright overhead lights and flashlights to find a total count of seven pups born and one potentially trapped in the vulva with Bonita straining to breath through pushing it and the umbilical free from herself. She died trying to free that last issue, her caregiver arguing that he, "...did not want to watch the damn dog anyway!" His mother's dog died from the resentment and disinterest. The pups died one after another from exposure and then from lack of nourishment. There was no mother to suckle from. After the last death count and disposal by burial in the far back end of the yard space, the son left, staying out of the house for a week or more. Before he could return and within days of Bonita's episode, BINTA began her whelping stage lucky to be under a bit more watchful eye and care for her outcome. Her puppies survived. They survived despite her weakened disposition near the end of the birth of a sixth pup. She was given an herbal convulsant, herbs chosen and blended at home on partial advise from a veterans clinic. No offices open or scheduled to open due to holiday weekend. The herbs were readily available in our kitchen except for one ingredient accessed from a local Natural Foods Store... FOOD FANTASIES held there in ample supply. The convulsant was to help with pushing the afterbirth. When she seemed overly lethargic after a seventh pup and placenta rushed from her body, she was given herbal antibiotic tucked between her teeth and lip; and simulated IV in form of Pedialyte by eyedropper. Where she had been on the verge of death, the herbals and sterile waters revived her to where she could eat and drink on her own. She performed her own life actions including loving the pups. After weeks of reviving BINTA and supplementing milk for the puppies with MOTHERS MILK, a substitute for lactating dogs that can not provide enough milk for new pups. In six months there were dogs everywhere running the fence, climbing atop dog house and dog run and crawling out of dog pens. Dogs running across the top of a yard parked vehicle and springing from the teeter totter black wire trailer in the back yard. The year before found us lucky enough to have erected a six foot fence so that only the sounds emitted from the action in our yard could be reacted to by the three dogs next door. They were no longer of concern. No longer the fear for unexpected intrusion by walk over on that four foot divider. They could not attend what they could not see. In six months the third litter of pups were being fended out... but slowly. Their lengthened familiarization with the home front and their learned skill at climbing brought indoor fiascoes surely unknown to other dog owners. The pool table was one major curiosity due to human interaction thereon. We could be seen leaning over what looked like the food scrap table, the place where if conniving, patient and willy enough, any one of them could pick up a scrap of bacon, steak or roasted beef. They could find sliced apple with peanut butter... their favorite. The table was the place to go even if searching it "in person" had to be tasked. The dining table once... but the pool table often, was where what seemed to be a dog version of KING OF THE HILL played out. CERBERUS and BINTA Boy took turns manning the table with the first leap victor nudging away any second tier challenger. CERBERUS was the all time winner for his knack with the leap, a one try effort. It was as if he could simply step up and be on top like the tallest of hurdle jumpers in a field event at the Olympics.

By the close of their sixth month three pups remained at ASCHERON. BINTA Boy, CERBERUS and FAETH. FOCCE' was returned to her traveling owner leaving BLU, our original puppy... nicknamed PUPPY, to once again head the pack. He was approaching the end of his second year with us. By his fourth year all puppies were grown and seeking out their own lead position. We were seeking out the permanent location and ready to initiate the next litter. FOCCE' and PUPPY had brought the beginning home. Business was what it could become and training to the rescue dog level was on paper. They were intermingled with local dog trainers, sheriff police and SARS. KING OF THE HILL? Who needs it. It's all a manner of mind.`