MAY 8, 2018 is a landmark date in our house, as my very last homebred litter of Cavalier puppies celebrated their 10th birthday. As for the actual day that they were born, it seems like only yesterday.

It was late evening on Wednesday, May 7, 2008, a whole week before their due date that things began to happen. I didn’t pay too much attention at first as my bitches never whelped early and as it was also a very warm evening, I felt that could have accounted for Jennifer’s restlessness.

Throughout the night I could hear her moving about, edgy and constantly rearranging her bedding, or “nesting” as some call it and so neither of us slept particularly well. Then, just as first light began to filter through the curtains, things moved up a gear, leaving very little doubt that the puppies were now on their way.

Plans for the rest of the day were hastily rearranged in preparation for the birth, but just as things began to look interesting, mum-to-be lay down in her bed and fall asleep.

I watched her for a little while as she slept and then decided to have a chat with the vet.

He recommended a short walk, but not too far from home and to take a towel with us, just in case. The walk passed without incident, so the next step was to take her along to the surgery.

The car journey, I was assured was bound to get things moving, but still nothing happened.

I didn’t want to leave her at the surgery, it felt as though I was deserting her in her hour of need, but following an examination it was the recommended course of action. Deflated, I drove home alone knowing that live puppies could not now be guaranteed, and that I had to call back in an hour for a progress report.

One unbearably long hour later, things were not progressing well at all and I was told that Jennifer was being prepared for an emergency caesarean section.

It felt like an eternity before the telephone rang again. In my mind’s eye, I had lived through every eventuality and every possible outcome, so when the vet nurse told me that we had three beautiful puppies, two girls and one boy and that mum and babies were all fine, I burst into tears.

It transpired that the first puppy to be born had not survived. A large dog puppy, he was stillborn, but the other three were fine and healthy and so was mum.

At the surgery the puppies, resembling three squeaky, blind hamsters, had been placed in a small box as Jennifer was still waking up from her anaesthetic.

At that point she hadn’t met her babies and I was advised to introduce them carefully when we got home, as not all bitches take to their puppies straight away following a C-section; happily, in our case it was love at first sight.

Originally, the plan had been to keep one puppy myself to show, one bitch puppy was to go to live with my daughter and her family and the remainder were to be sold. But as there were only three in total and they had all had such a traumatic start in life, it was impossible to choose only one to keep, so Izzy and Brigadier stayed with me and Millie went to live with Vicky, Peter and Bethany.

As it happened, neither of my two had very long showing careers. Izzy simply did not enjoy being in the show ring and as for Brigadier, an incredibly handsome boy showing much initial promise, he continued to grow at such a rate that he eventually exceeded the breed standard maximum size.

Millie, meanwhile, has made one or two appearances in the ring in “dog most like her owner” classes, which does seem to be her forte; that and being a much loved family member which is infinitely more important.

So without further ado I would like to wish all our 10-year-old puppies “many happy returns of the day”, and to say a huge heartfelt thank you for a decade filled with fun, laughter and lots of love.