Manic Milk Monkeys

It's official. They are not puppies. They are instead Manic Milk Monkeys on a Mission. It's all about the milk and nothing but the milk. After more than two weeks of bottle feeding these orphaned pups, we have come to realize that we have created monsters. They can now see (eyes wide open!) and hear, and that means they are aware that the source of the milk has entered the room. And so they cry. And they run around on wobbly legs, and fall down and roll on the floor in the agony of anticipation. I close my eyes, and I can swear they are screaming "bottle, bottle, bottle!"

When one of us sits on the floor and pulls the first lucky puppy into a lap for his turn at the bottle, the others attack. They climb up pants legs and get stuck. They pull themselves into the human lap and try to dislodge the currently nursing puppy. They attempt to climb up the shirt of the human and push their noses into shirt sleeves.

The assault is relentless until each puppy has his or her turn at the milk bar and every belly is so full it appears dangerously close to popping. And then, finally, there is quiet. The only sound is the contented little grunts they make as  as they settle into their clean, dry blankets and sink deep into the land of milk coma.  And that's when they suck you back into believing they are adorable little helpless puppies, even though you know better. They are so cute and so sweet when sleeping that you buy into the puppy myth, even though you know for a fact that they are Manic Milk Monkeys on a Mission and the next outbreak is a mere 3 hours away.

Scrappy String Bean demonstrates the Milk Coma.

Full bellies and warm blankets equals sheer bliss.

Even in his sleep, he nurses an imaginary bottle.