Today was an interesting one.
We had some visitors. Perfect timing for the pups – they are interactive and still gently exploring the world with their teeth.
Elsa accepts everyone. It is one of the things I love about this amazing mama. She appropriately checks everyone out and then retreats to let them play with her puppies. I’m always very careful to prepare visitors, letting them know what’s ok and what they should not do. Today’s visitors included two young kids. Their parents had already prepped them; it was clear that they are dog-people. (They will adopt! It’s just a question of which lucky puppy.)
But Elsa was restless. I could see that she was full of milk. She’s at a point where she’s trying to wean the puppies, but her body is still producing sustenance. She wandered around all of us, she dripped milk, she licked herself to relieve some of the pressure. And none of the pups was interested in trying to get her to nurse.
So tonight, after Elsa ate a good dinner, and the pups had their fill of their own kibble, and their enrichment activity (carried into the kitchen) was completed, I spied the little family enjoying some time together.
I wondered if this was the ‘first last’. Is this the last time they’ll nurse? Is this the first of many ‘last-times’ they’ll experience with their mom?
And it made me remember the exact moment, and the exact spot on the sidewalk in front of our house when my first-born decided that he didn’t need to hold my hand anymore in order to navigate the world. He dropped my hand, took a few steps and looked back at me. I said, ‘You can do it’ and he did.
Firsts and lasts and everything in between.