Runaway Bride: A laugh out loud funny and feel good rom com

Sandy let out a long, low whine. A small black bag had started to emerge behind her.

‘There’s the first one,’ Jack said in a hushed tone. He took another swig of vodka and passed it to me.

When Sandy had shaken herself free of the puppy, it lay by her feet in a little wriggling sack. Its mum blinked at it, looking puzzled.

‘What do we do?’ I asked Jack in a panicked whisper. ‘Do we need the scissors?’

‘Give it a second, let instinct kick in,’ he whispered back.

After a couple more seconds, Sandy bit the bag open and her first tiny baby spilled out in a mess of goo and life. She chewed off the umbilical cord then gave the little chap a vigorous clean with her tongue, and we watched as he squirmed his way blindly to her flank, attached himself to one teat and suckled noisily. Sandy shivered again as another contraction rippled through her, but she didn’t make a sound.

‘It should get easier for her now,’ Jack said.

I looked at the little puppy. He wasn’t yellow like Sandy but black, with a piping of white running around his collar.

‘What colour’s the dad?’ I asked Jack.

He laughed. ‘Brown, or I thought he was. Starting to wonder if Sand’s been putting it about.’

I tickled Sandy between the ears. ‘Slutty girl.’

‘Definitely Jack Russell stock though,’ he said, examining the pup. ‘That’s good. If they’ve got the ratter gene, I should have a home for them.’

‘How can you tell?’ I asked. ‘He looks a bit rat-like himself at the moment.’

‘Shape of the muzzle. Long and thin.’

I squinted at the puppy, sucking against Sandy’s belly as she regarded him with a comical mixture of pride, affection and surprise.

‘He’s very tiny, isn’t he?’ I said. ‘I mean, even for a baby. They seemed bigger when I felt her tummy.’

‘You’re right. Think we’re looking at the runt here.’

‘Can I pet him?’

‘One finger, very quick. Sandy won’t be keen.’

I brushed the little pup with the tip of my finger. His skin felt warm and silken. As soon as I’d withdrawn my hand Sandy started washing him again, as if to get the stench of stinky human off his magnificent doginess.

‘Aww. Lovely, isn’t he?’ I said, simpering. ‘Clever old Sandy.’

Jack shot me a concerned glance. ‘Listen, Kit. Try not to get too attached, okay?’

‘Why?’

‘It’s a risky time, the first twenty-four hours. And I don’t want to scare you, but the little ones – well, they don’t always make it. I don’t want to see you upset if it’s bad news in the morning.’

‘Oh.’ I looked at the little pup, his tiny eyes glued closed and his pink mouth clamped around Sandy’s teat. ‘Okay, I’ll… try not to.’

He gave my shoulder a squeeze. ‘He’ll probably be fine. Just wanted to warn you.’

‘Yeah. Thanks.’

‘Look, can you mind her a bit? I want to get the awnings up before the light gives out.’

I turned wide eyes on him. ‘You’re leaving me? What if another pup comes?’

‘I’ll just be outside. Anyway, Sandy knows what she’s doing.’ He gave the nursing dog a pat. ‘She’s a smart little thing. Just leave her to it and yell for me if she seems to be having trouble.’

But by the time Jack had finished getting the awnings up, there was still no sign of another puppy. Sandy was panting contentedly while she fed her single baby, although I’d noticed the shivers across her tummy getting more pronounced.

‘Next one’s on its way,’ Jack said when he came back in, glancing at his dog’s rippling flank. ‘Textbook so far. Looks like we’ll be all right.’

‘Fingers crossed.’ I passed him the vodka as he sat down next to me and he took a glug.

My eyes were drawn to Sandy, whimpering with quiet pathos. The next puppy had started to emerge.

‘It’s coming,’ I said in an awed whisper.

‘So it is.’ Jack kissed the top of my head. It felt like the right thing, just then.

For this birth, Sandy got to her feet. Her firstborn sucked blindly at the air as he wondered where his meal had gone.

When the furry jellybean was free of his mum’s little doggy body, there was no hesitation. She bit him out of his bag and cleaned him up, and minutes later the newbie was suckling happily next to his brother – or sister, the sexing would have to come later. Somehow it felt like all dogs were male by default, just as all cats were female.

The new boy was a solid chocolate, and nearly a third as big again as his older sibling. He didn’t have the long, thin muzzle Jack had pointed out as the hallmark of a Jack Russell, instead bearing the rounder snout of his mother.

‘Brown.’ Jack gave Sandy a rub between the ears. ‘Sorry I slandered you, girl. Looks like it was Ben’s old mutt who did the deed after all.’

Sandy was whimpering again, and her contractions seemed to be closer together. Sure enough, ten minutes later the next pup’s head was visible, and she stood to finish the birth.

‘That was quick,’ I said, taking the vodka from Jack and swallowing about a quarter-shot’s worth. Puppy midwifery was a stressful business.

‘Yeah, there’s not really any rhyme or reason to these things. Sometimes it’s minutes between births, sometimes hours.’ Jack looked at me as I rubbed a fist in my eye. ‘No need for you to stay up though. I can see to Sandy.’

‘And leave you on your own? Not a chance.’ I squeezed his hand. ‘You said you needed me and here I am.’

He flung me a grateful smile. ‘Thanks, Kit.’

I looked at the newest pup. Sandy had freed it of its sack and was giving it a good wash, but the tiny thing just lay there. It didn’t wiggle, and it didn’t join its siblings at the all-you-can-drink milk bar. It just… lay there.

‘Why doesn’t it move, Jack?’ I asked quietly.

He was looking at it with concern. ‘Sorry, girl,’ he said to Sandy. ‘You won’t like this but it has to be done.’

Jack scooped up the little dog. Sandy gave a faint warning growl, but she didn’t try to stop him. Its tiny body looked limp and lifeless in his hand.

He lifted it to his ear. ‘Not breathing.’