Early afternoon, Overcast, 62F/17C
This time the Lennox woman recognized the signs that her labour would begin soon. The shift in mood, drop in her belly, the unmistakable urge to barely leave her den, rejecting even food and water and most company. She could never get comfortable, and at times she felt the overwhelming sense of dread that she would never actually get to be comfortable again. Finley knew logically this wasn’t true, but it didn’t stop a few tears from falling late into the night when she could not sleep.
When the pain began, sharp beneath her ribs and rippling down her sides it caused a sharp inhale and her eyes to close. Finley spent some time pacing, and then some time resting when she could, and then pacing again. Soon the urge to duck back into the safety of her birthing den became too strong to ignore and at that point she knew she needed someone to keep watch. Lifting her muzzle to the sky the woman gave a short blast to alert those who were near that it was time.
Then she ducked down into the safe little hole that would be the first home of her and Jethro’s children. Finley groaned and her eyes rolled back in her head for a moment, counting her breaths until the contraction wore down. It was painful, but so far manageable, and no pups were yet to join them.