There are rats on my bed

We got a dog. It was a rather sad dog and I had to bring her home. When I answered the ad in the paper it was for husky puppies. I went to pick up the pup and she was huddled , wet muddy and alone in a chicken wire pen that was full of mud, feces and puppy food. She may have had husky in there somewhere, but she looked like an emaciated German shepherd. She was already a couple of months old, and the damage had been done. She was crazy. I had a fenced in yard and she had to jump the fence. Then I put her on a lead and she ran around and around all day long until the yard looked like a race track. Unfortunately, this dog became pregnant. I had underestimated her age and she went into heat before I could get her spayed.

During her pregnancy, her mental faculties decreased rapidly. She barked and ran until I though she would exhaust herself. She forgot all of her histrionics. I felt bad for her, so I let her come in only long enough to kennel her at night. The kids would let her stay out longer and roam the house – risking my wrath and her bodily deposits - when I was working nights. Our babysitter, Rusty was on duty the night the puppies were born.

The dog had curled up on JacobÂ’s bottom bunk and about 3 am there was a great uproar. Jacob had awakened to find his bed covered in wet crawling things and started screaming, "There are rats on my bed! There are rats on my bed!"

Rusty and Jerra ran in. Laughter ensued as they scooped up the wet puppies all over his bed. Once he was awake enough to see what they were he picked them up.