Redhawk Caldera What do you call a French dog that loves potatoes?

Towhee remembered well the first few days following Meerkat's birth. She had been overwhelmed at first, though mostly overjoyed at her daughter's unexpected arrival. She had soaked up those early days in such giddiness, just the two of them tucked safely inside the cozy log.

Life with four newborns was... different, to say the least. Towhee loved them fiercely, though she'd begun thinking of this place as the Hell Hole. She was so tired, yet she barely slept. A whole litter of hungry puppies demanded so much of her body, she felt utterly depleted even though she ate everything brought to her. There were no breaks, no escape, not even to stretch her legs. She made and cleaned up her own messes along with the pups', in a seemingly endless cycle.

Today, Towhee hit her breaking point. While the foursome bubbled and squeaked, she extricated herself. Feeling like a crusty, dirty, worn-out dishrag, she slumped from the den into the fresh air for the first time since giving birth. She tipped her head into the sunlight and closed her eyes. She just needed to steal a minute or two to breathe.