Big Brown Innocent Eyes

1-The Mother Dog

Abandoned. That's how the mother dog felt.

Sniffing desperately at the air she tried to find the scent of her mate, the abandoned farmhouse they had been staying in, anything. Nothing came to her. The only thing she could smell was the snow. A thin carpet of it covered the ground, covered with the crisscrossing paw-prints of the many forest creatures. 

The mother dog sighed. She knew she would have her pups soon, and would be forced to have them out in the cold woods. She had not a clue where her mate had disappeared to and nothing familiar lay in sight. 

Deciding to settle down in a den, the mother dog, once again, put her sniffer to the ground and attempted to discover anything, a hollow, a long forgotten den, anything to shelter her and her pups. 

The mother dog was able to hit her first stroke of luck the whole day, a deep hollow in the ground, seemingly abandoned. 

Digging through the snow the mother dog was finally able to lay down. Now to wait. She knew the pups would be born soon, and being out of a warm den would be the worst thing to happen. She closed her eyes. Yes, waiting seemed like a good idea now.

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The the mother dog stared down at her pups. Oh, her beautiful pups. Her poor, poor, beautiful pups. 

An overwhelming sense of sadness fell upon her. Two pups dead. One barely alive. She knew the pup wouldn't survive. It was far too weak, and it would be nearly impossible for her to be able to produce enough milk for it survive. 

She nudged the little thing up to her belly. Might as well try. The pup reminded her of her mate, with his pointed ears, black back, and short fur. The only thing that might as well have been hers was the golden sheet of fur underlying his black back. 

She glanced over at his two litter-mates. Both had her long golden fur and floppy ears, along with a matching black back to their sibling. 

The mother dog nuzzled the  two of them, grief overcoming her. How had things turned up like this? She had had a mate, a full belly and a perfect abandoned farmhouse to raise pups. 

She knew she should've never playfully ran into the forest with her mate, overjoyed about their puppies. She should've never romped through the tress with him. She should've known that  they would've been separated. She should've known. Her pups might have been alive then, and might have been  much stronger than the tiny little runt the pawed at her chest. Regret and longing came over her, for what it could've been.

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 The mother dog sat in the den, nursing the single pup. She was in an even worse situation than before. The snow rained down, blocked the entrance to the den, and leaving her starving. 

She needed food. Meat. A squirrel. She whined, and picked up her puppy. The outside world was too dangerous for the newborn and she knew bringing him outside would be suicide. She walked to back of the den and set her puppy as far away from the entrance to the den as she could. 

She need to get food, or she would run out of milk. Pawing at the snow closest to the entrance she found it crumpled easily. Hope filled her heart and the mother dog began to believe. To believe that she could get food, to believe that she could keep the pup alive, to believe that somehow she would find her mate and they would live happily with their pup in the abandoned farmhouse.  

As she disappeared into  the swirling mess of snow, the mother dog believed. Believing was the only thing at this point that kept her going.