Even Victor is here because of Daddy bin.
i did a mean thing to bin once, and i dont regret doing it..for that is where his story all starts. I may have to tell this in pieces, but here is how Bin met tate.
I brought tate and two other puppies 3 days old home to nurse. I didn't think even one of them would live, they were all in such bad shape. The dehydration was terrible, their eyes were mat, not glossy, u could hear the lungs "sticky" together if u held their tiny mouths up to your ear. When i pinched (litely) tate's skin to see how bad the dehydration was, it stayed up. One died, from a staff infection he should have been able to fight off from birth, but he was just so weak. I had come home with the dead puppy, and the two others had started to really come around. They were about 3 weeks old at this time....Bin was sitting by the piano when little tatey wiggled her way toward him. He growled and snapped at her and that is when i snatched her up..and put the dead puppy down in front of him. It was mean and i don't know why i did it, other than he had to know he couldn't bite at them or they would be dead. HE layed himself down beside that dead puppy and didn't leave it all afternoon. I felt so bad..i finally took it away from him. From that day on, tate was his puppy. Where ever he walked, she toddled between his legs..she weaned herself on the droppings from his mouth (he was one of those that takes a bite and chews it as he goes in another room then returned for another bite) i can still see it in my head, her little 5 week old baby self between those long long legs. Nilly bean the other puppy didn't follow bin around..she thrived, but she hung out with the two girls i babysat, Mary and Dorothy. I drove those two puppies over to the mother dog and let them have the first rich milk to come down..3 times a day..and supplimented their diet with formula..and nutrical...they couldn't be in with the litter for the other puppies were three times their size by the time tate and Nilly bean had the strength to suck. Finally i found a home for nilly, but taty was bins. I keep a playpen for very young pups so that if i do have to leave the room, i can put them in a safe zone. Bin always jumped up into the playpen and stayed with her until i returned. Tatey grew and i got sick.
I had pneumonia for a year, so sick i lost my job, and later my home. Eventually i started to get well but not before tate and bin had become husband and wife. I know the day i looked out and saw what had happened, i had a temp of 103 and just couldn't do a dang thing about it. There was no one helping me at the time, i had relocated, and had started on the rise to recovery, but it took a long long time. There is no excuse..poor people shouldn't have dogs..i shouldn't have had dogs..but that is a moot point to this story. Bin was tender and loving to tate, they had games..my favorite was to watch Bin pretend to stalk tatey..and then stop on the path and crouch down...then stay there. Tate would be jumping up and down, turning in circles trying to get him to come chase her, and he knew it drove her crazy. She in turn would catch him off gaurd, flip him up in the air by putting her snout under his middle....tackle him down to the ground, lay on him while his legs churned the air, and snuzzle his ears. They were like that with each other.
The day tatey went into labor Bin watched with eyes the size of saucers..after his first pup was born he raced around the house and scooted back into postition to see the next..and the next..she had 8 black and shiny marbles...Bin was just astounded..he kissed them..he kissed her. And then he became the man i most respect...he was a REAL father. Now i have put a lump in my throat and i will stop there or else this will be a book. He deserves a book for he is the only real father i have ever known. One that loved his children above all else.