Challenged Expectations

When I came into Peace Corps, I tried to learn as much about Azerbaijan without building up expectations. I knew that any expectations I formed would be wrong one way or another, and I wanted to keep myself open to the experiences I would encounter. Recently however, I have learned more about one thing I never expected to know. My dog became pregnant and gave birth to puppies. If I had been assigned to a PC country such as Mongolia or somewhere in Africa, being around birthing animals seems like it would have been more likely. And certainly, we have our share of animals wandering around the yard—ducks, turkeys, and chickens. Every year my host family buys several dozen chicks to raise, for eggs and meat. There are geese out on the street. But serving as a dog midwife was a surprise. Sure, we could have prevented it, but we were slow to find a doctor who would perform the operation, and slower to talk about how we would pay for it (only 40 manat), and by the time we had a plan of sorts, the damage had been done. Instead, we watched Miri swell. Shortly after we were sure she had become pregnant I did some research on dog birth. But then all we could do was wait. We took bets on what day and how many puppies would blossom. The general verdict was the beginning of June. Miri had other plans. May 27 I invited the Ismayilli baseball team to my house to watch a game on my computer (Game 6 of the 2011 World Series, Rangers at Cardinals as it happened). They met Miri and joined in the guessing on how many puppies would come in the next few weeks. Several remarked they wanted to see the puppies when they finally came. That night, Miri began pacing and panting, waking me around 2am. After a frantic call from Caroline, who came to my rescue by reading to me about dog birth online, Miri seemed to settle back down and we both went to sleep. In the morning, there were no puppies, and I worried that something had gone wrong. To clear my mind, I went to the bazaar for food, and when I came back Miri was sitting in her box in my room, a panicked look on her face, and a puppy on the way. Jet-black, except for small bits of white on its paws and chest, the puppy took after Miri’s parents (and possibly its father, though there are two suspects for that honor). That first puppy was a shock for both of us, but after realizing that the puppy was alive and well, and Miri had seen to its first bath, we breathed sighs of relief. Through the course of the day, four other puppies followed, totaling three males and two females. Almost three weeks later, the puppies have started to open their eyes and take their first real steps. Future homes have been found for most of them, though they have to stay with us until the end of July, staying close to their mother. I have spent the past few weeks, in addition to my other work, researching puppy raising techniques, knowledge and relaying this to my host family. Truly, a learning experience from an unexpected source. Woof.