My daughter wanted a dog for her eighth birthday and had checked a book out of the library to study all the breeds.(Yes. We are kind of library dependent!) She settled on a West Highland White Terrier, and I found a breeder in central Oregon who had a two year old female who wasn’t a show dog. Because she was older and not show quality, I could actually afford her. We drove down and brought home a wonderful dog already named Biscuit.
Biscuit adapted to us and us to her immediately. We grew accustomed to her needs and took her for walks several times a day. One Sunday morning before church, I put on her leash to take her out. She balked, resisted, and planted herself firmly on the floor. I picked her up and carried her outside since we were in a hurry to leave. Once outside, she expelled a five inch intestine looking object onto the driveway. I panicked, figuring she was dying. Then my brain kicked in and I realized it was a puppy in a sac!
Scooping up dog and sac, I carried her into the house, put her in a box with two towels and went to church. When we came home, she presented us with two puppies, all clean and nursing. In my haste, I had deprived my daughter of the chance to witness the second birth.
Totally mystified by this turn of events, I called Mary Anne, our breeder and told her the news. She replied, “That Arthur.” Apparently she had put a very young male dog, Arthur, in a dog run with Biscuit, thinking nothing would come of it. We had the joy of Sugar and Butter for a couple of months and then gave one puppy and sold one puppy back to Mary Anne. We went to Disneyland on the proceeds.