Sun Mote Copse Now you see me

Luckily birth was the only traumatic event in Elfie's life and by the evening he had forgotten all about the unpleasant ordeal and was concerned with eating, sleeping, being warm and protesting loudly, when one of the three were missing. Or when his stomach and intestines threw a tantrum, causing colics, gass build-up (and frequent pass-out), making the puppy to wail unconsolably for hours, until he grew exhausted and fell in restless sleep. 

However, if we compare his bowel to a newly-wed couple, it had found the right music to dance to and worked in near-perfect coordination. He still was the little family's fart-and-stink-bomb, but now they came in a form of happy toots and content hiccups. Or both. 

But more change was to take place on the day by the middle of his second week of life. Elfie woke up with a wide puppy yawn, wiggled his feet a bit - a little routine before another meal-time - and stopped mid-figurative-stride, because an unfamiliar sensation hit him. It was still dark around, him but the prickling, cold and wet feeling somewhere in the middle of his head was new. His eyes had finished their post-natal development and were ready for use. The only problem - he had no idea, what for.