His human parents, Pattie and I, were having some wine to celebrate and toast the five puppies born to Dandelion, sending e-mail messages to family and friends announcing the births. We came back to the birthing room when we realized that all was not well. Dandelion was in a rigid position, her eyes staring straight ahead, half of a puppy dangling out of her, feet first.

I quickly extricated the puppy, a large black male, from Dandelion – he was not breathing. Pat was extremely upset, thinking it was our fault for not being vigilant throughout the process. But we had thought that, after five puppies, Dandelion was done. Pat started sobbing and saying “Crissie, Crissie, please do something, try to bring him back to life…let’s call him Blossom…”

I took Blossom in my hands and started vigorously massaging his still little body. I put his little nose in my mouth and gave him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Then I put a little milk on my pinky finger and inserted it into his mouth, still rubbing him vigorously with a washcloth. I kept doing this for about half an hour. Finally, miraculously, I felt his little tongue curl around my finger as his whole body started vibrating with life in my hands. He was alive.

He began to whine and cry and he’s never stopped…he was a very vocal dog. I placed him among his brethren on Dandelion’s stomach and he began sucking ravenously. Blossom was a vigorous, passionate little dog. He was a fearless hunter with a few squirrels, a turkey and various other animals to his credit. He even tried stalking a deer in the snow one winter.

He died as he had been born. Nose to nose with me talking to him and telling him what a good dog he had been and reassuring him that I will see him on the other side. I received his last breath as I had received his first twelve years ago.