Tomorrow, the Yahtaris Miracle Litter will turn six. They had an interesting start.
In 2006, I flew Nikka to Vancouver to be bred to Klute. We had a positive palpation, but when her due date passed, it became apparent that she had resorped the litter and progressed to a false pregnancy. I was disappointed, of course, but it was no time for giving up.
Undeterred, we tried again the next year, with a surgical implant of chilled semen on Valentine's Day. Nikka had extreme suture reaction as a result, which we could not have known would happen as she had never had surgery before. She was back at our regular vet for observation until she spiked a fever that could not be controlled, and I had to transfer her to the University of Minnesota. When we arrived, her temperature was 106 F. She spent four days in ICU, and we were just grateful she survived. Medical consensus, not to mention all rational logic, was that the embryos could not have persisted, and I set aside hopes of continuing my line. The dog I had was more important than the puppies I might have had.
On March 9th, I took her for an ultrasound. I remember sitting in the waiting area with her--not wanting to be there, not wanting to hear there were no puppies, struggling to balance my disappointment against my thankfulness for Nikka's recovery. In short, I was trying very hard not to cry in public.
I don't remember, exactly, what happened when the ultrasound picked up the puppies. There was this mix of shock, disbelief, and the sound of heartbeats. But, there they were, on the screen! I am certain I swore. I suspect a few people swore to be honest.
When I got in the car, I called Jon immediately. I reached for that famous Al Michaels line and blurted out, "Do you believe in miracles?" Thank God for Jon, he never missed a beat: "I believe in miracles!" And suddenly, against all odds, we were having puppies after all.
What sticks in my memory about the morning of April 16th wasn't just that all five puppies were born perfectly healthy. Between Colt's arrival at 6:40 am, and Gem's a perfect three hours later, Seung-Hui Cho opened fire on the Virginia Tech campus, massacring 32 people in the deadliest shooting by a single gunman in US history. We watched in horror as their birth was forever tied to a time of such national grief.
Today, their birthday is again tied to tragedy in the wake of terrorist bombings at the Boston Marathon. But there is a lesson in these interwoven threads, and it must be one of hope.
I had a hunt test judge giggle when she read Mac's name, Yahtaris I Believe In Miracles. She said, "Hey, maybe she named him that because as a puppy she was worried he wouldn't pass!" I laughed, too, but I have never forgotten that his name came from Jon's quick response on the phone that day. We picked his call name after Rob McClanahan, the St. Paul native who played not only for the Gophers, but for the 1980 US Olympic Hockey team. Mac has been our miracle dog from the very first moment.
Happiest of birthdays to Colt, Skye, Bea, Mac, and Gem: five amazing dogs, who left us so boldly to go where they are loved.
In 2006, I flew Nikka to Vancouver to be bred to Klute. We had a positive palpation, but when her due date passed, it became apparent that she had resorped the litter and progressed to a false pregnancy. I was disappointed, of course, but it was no time for giving up.
Undeterred, we tried again the next year, with a surgical implant of chilled semen on Valentine's Day. Nikka had extreme suture reaction as a result, which we could not have known would happen as she had never had surgery before. She was back at our regular vet for observation until she spiked a fever that could not be controlled, and I had to transfer her to the University of Minnesota. When we arrived, her temperature was 106 F. She spent four days in ICU, and we were just grateful she survived. Medical consensus, not to mention all rational logic, was that the embryos could not have persisted, and I set aside hopes of continuing my line. The dog I had was more important than the puppies I might have had.
On March 9th, I took her for an ultrasound. I remember sitting in the waiting area with her--not wanting to be there, not wanting to hear there were no puppies, struggling to balance my disappointment against my thankfulness for Nikka's recovery. In short, I was trying very hard not to cry in public.
I don't remember, exactly, what happened when the ultrasound picked up the puppies. There was this mix of shock, disbelief, and the sound of heartbeats. But, there they were, on the screen! I am certain I swore. I suspect a few people swore to be honest.
When I got in the car, I called Jon immediately. I reached for that famous Al Michaels line and blurted out, "Do you believe in miracles?" Thank God for Jon, he never missed a beat: "I believe in miracles!" And suddenly, against all odds, we were having puppies after all.
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| Proud Mommy Nikka on April 16, 2007 |
What sticks in my memory about the morning of April 16th wasn't just that all five puppies were born perfectly healthy. Between Colt's arrival at 6:40 am, and Gem's a perfect three hours later, Seung-Hui Cho opened fire on the Virginia Tech campus, massacring 32 people in the deadliest shooting by a single gunman in US history. We watched in horror as their birth was forever tied to a time of such national grief.
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| Mac on July 4, 2007 |
I had a hunt test judge giggle when she read Mac's name, Yahtaris I Believe In Miracles. She said, "Hey, maybe she named him that because as a puppy she was worried he wouldn't pass!" I laughed, too, but I have never forgotten that his name came from Jon's quick response on the phone that day. We picked his call name after Rob McClanahan, the St. Paul native who played not only for the Gophers, but for the 1980 US Olympic Hockey team. Mac has been our miracle dog from the very first moment.
Happiest of birthdays to Colt, Skye, Bea, Mac, and Gem: five amazing dogs, who left us so boldly to go where they are loved.
