Scarlett soon found the days blurring together as she fell into her new routine. She woke up early every morning to give Fantine a bit of extra attention and found herself sneaking out to the shed after dinner every night to read with her and give her little snacks from the food Lauren had cooked that evening.
Spring was slowly coming to Alaska as it did every year, although for Alaskans it was known as the big “Break Up.” The packed snow that had covered the roads for the last several months now melted and shattered like miniature glaciers, turning everything a dirty, mucky brown and gray. It wouldn’t be long until they needed to start using wheeled practice sleds and an ATV to run the dogs.
After a quick run around the property, Scarlett once more gravitated toward the shed. The moment she opened the door, she could tell something wasn’t right. Fantine appeared to have shredded the towels and pillows that made up her bed and now stalked back and forth like a coyote on the hunt.
Panic seized Scarlett as she tried to make sense of the scene before her. She needed to do something, but what? If Fantine got too agitated, what would happen to the pup—
The puppies!
She raced into the shed, slipping on a small puddle of dog vomit on the floor as she went directly to her birthing book Oscar had lent her. After a few minutes of frantic page flipping and hurried reading, she determined that very soon the shed would house a whole family of husky pups. The last time Oscar had been out to the cabin, he’d given Fantine a thorough check up and shared his prediction that her litter would be five puppies in size.
Part of Scarlett felt she should call Lauren or Shane out to the shed. However, that thought quickly left her when she looked into Fantine’s eyes and saw the fear reflecting back at her. Scarlett knew then she’d have to be the one to help the soon-to-be mother deliver her new pups into this world.
“It’s okay, girl. I’m going to be here with you the whole time. Are you ready to meet your puppies?” Scarlett gently stroked the dog’s head with light pressure and pulled out a copy of the same Victor Hugo masterpiece that had served as the dog’s namesake. “Now, where did we leave off, Fantine?”
She started to read aloud the way she did every night, hoping that this familiarity would comfort the dog. A few hours later, Javert had been thwarted once more and five little blobs now squirmed around Fantine, fighting for the best nursing spots. Scarlett wasn’t sure why, but something still seemed wrong. And she couldn’t take any chances here. This was a matter of life and death, and Fantine needed her to be brave.
After a few minutes of the dog continuing to whine and Scarlett not able to do a single thing to comfort her, she tried calling Oscar. When he didn’t pick up, she left a hasty message and then immediately called again.
“Please pick up, please pick up,” she mumbled, but it was no use.
Whether Fantine lived or died would be up to her and her limited experience. Doing her best to keep her voice steady, she read the birthing book aloud, looking for answers and trying to comfort the dog both at the same time. After everything the dog had been through, it didn’t seem fair to lose her when she finally had a safe home.
Fantine panted heavily between whines and Scarlett felt tears welling in her eyes. Just then, the dog made a small noise and collapsed into the whelping box, her breaths coming out slow and fitfully. Scarlett began to cry in earnest now. “No! You need to hang on, girl. Don’t give up now.” she breathed out between the sobs.
It wasn’t fair.
How? How, after all of that?
She knelt down and hugged Fantine’s head to her chest.
A tongue flicked out and licked some of her tears away. Scarlett looked down into Fantine’s mismatched eyes. The husky weakly wagged her tail and pulled herself away from Scarlett. Circling around, the dog nudged a sixth puppy with her nose. It was the smallest of the litter and mostly reddish in color.
“Oh! You still had another puppy in there! How silly of me. You obviously couldn’t have a litter without your little Cosette. But let’s see here. Who are your other puppies? Obviously, this big guy here should be… Lenny. Lenny Small. Aww, and this little girl looks like a Molly Bloom. This little guy looks like a Sam to me. Yeah, Sam Spade. And this confused looking pup is Don Quixote. And his grey and white buddy is Yossarian. There we go, Fantine. A litter of literary littles.”
She laughed, stroking the head of each puppy lightly as she whispered their names.
Love had saved the day, and she knew her relationship with the dogs would be forever changed.