Mother dogs

When I was twenty years old, I began to think I wanted to raise dogs and board and train them for others.  My Grandfather built a wonderful building for me on my Dad's dairy farm.  The kennel building was on the other side of the house from the barn.  It had a box stall on one end for my horse and four
good sized kennels which had sliding door access to a chain link, cement run area.  There were trees all around so that the runs stayed cool in summer.  There was a space for my office desk and for storing food.  I already had a Sheltie female.  She was my pal and slept in the house (in bed with me actually).  Her name was Tami. She was from a good Shetland Sheepdog kennel.  Tami was sable and white in color.  I heard of a 2 year old black Standard Poodle in the area for sale.  I bought her.  She was gorgeous and very well trained.  She understood three languages- English, French and hand signals.  The owners were no longer able to keep her due to illness.  Her name was
Cheri.  So after parting with many week's pay, I brought her home.  Now I began the search for appropriate males to mate my two lovely girls with.  In nearby Burlington, Vt. I found a
handsome silver male Poodle with a nice pedigree.  The owner agreed to accept his choice of the litter as fee for the mating.
It was accomplished.
Then I had to find a suitable mate for Tami.  As it turned out, a woman, recently moved to our town with a tri-color male.
He also had a good pedigree and had an excellent temperment.
This lady also agreed to choice of the litter as fee for the mating.  Thus I had two expectant mamas.  
Cheri gave birth first.  Eight healthy babies, so adorable in their black curly coats.  Cheri was an exemplary mother, immediately knowing what to do as each puppy appeared.  It was my first time witnessing birth of puppies, but all went well without any assistance from me.  As Cheri cleaned each tiny pup, she nudged him towards her belly and those babies knew what to do too-latching on and making happy grunting sounds as they sucked.
A few days later it was Tami's turn.  Cheri had given birth in the kennel.  For Tami I fixed a box near my bed.  She would have been very stressed to be shut away from me, after spending every night in my bed since she arrived as an 8 week old.  One night as she lay cuddled in bed, her bulging tummy pressing against  my back, Tami began to whimper.  I rose and gently placed her in the box.  Tami immediately climbed back onto the bed.  Finally I had to wrap up in my bathrobe and sit
next to the box holding Tami in it--petting her , reassuring her.
Nothing seemed to be wrong.  Shortly a tiny wet yellow and white wiggly pup appeared.  Tami wanted nothing what so ever to do with it.  I wiped the puppy with a clean soft cloth and cleared the mucous from his wee nostrils.  Two more puppies arrived in short order.  It appeared to have been a very easy birth,; however, Tami did not think so.  She acted as if she blamed these three mites for causing her discomfort.  When I attempted to put the pups against her nipples she struggled and jumped from the box.  I coaxed her back in and held her while the babies got that most important first milk (colostrum), which contains the essentials for immunity and for their digestive systems to begin to function.  Tami hated every second of it.  There was not a maternal bone in her body.
The minute I let go of her, hoping the pups had received enough nourishment for now, she leaped up on my bed and settled down to rest.
Next morning while Cheri was doing an admirable job of caring for her four boys and four girls, I was holding Tami down once again  so her offspring could partake of her plentiful milk supply.  Stronger now, Tami fought even harder to get away.  I had to go to work!  What to do?  These babies needed washing to eliminate.  They needed feedings through-out the day.  They needed mother love.  I put the three Shelties in a basket and carried them to the kennel.  Opening Cheri's gate, I placed one of the Sheltie pups in beside her.  Cheri sniffed the puppy and rolled him over, washing his tummy.
Then ever so gently she nudged the pup in among her own much bigger children.  He began to nurse.  One at a time, I introduced the other two.  Cheri accepted them all.
When i returned from work late that afternoon, a very content
mother Poodle proudly displayed all  eleven of "her" clean, content puppies.  She raised all of them as her own.
Tami never had to endure motherhood again for I had her spayed as soon as her milk glands had shrunk.
Cheri went on to have several more litters.  Her Poodle children went to homes all over the state-one even went to Canada.  Of Cheri's three adopted ones, one went to the lady
who owned the sire, one I sold, and one female, whom I named Heidi, I kept.  They all grew to be gorgeous dogs, under the
gentle care of  their foster mother.