Going out to the city was a necessary evil sometimes, but that didn’t mean Cheyanne had to like it. The drive to Atlanta was long enough that she needed to devote an entire day to getting there and back. And after six hours, even Lynn ran out of things to say. And after all Chey’s old truck had been through (dirt roads, gravel, mud, hailstorms, and floods), it said something that the long drive on the interstate made her worry the most. It was an old clunker, by anyone’s standards, but she’d kept in the best shape she could with her own two hands. Her truck was her baby.

Or, rather, her first baby.
Cheyanne sat cross-legged in a chair that was as modern and stylish as it was uncomfortable. The air in the clinic was turned up too high and made her shiver, while being thankful she decided to wear her jeans (as dirty and worn and ragged as they were) instead of her usual shorts. On her right side was another chair with Lynn’s purse sitting in it in lieu of Lynn herself, who had hurried into the bathroom a few minutes ago. Chey shifted in her seat uncomfortably, feeling unnaturally cramped in the clinic’s waiting room, especially with so many people around.

Sitting back in her seat, she took a deep breath of the processed, sterile air pumped in through the AC and huffed through her nose. She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning her head back against the wall and hoping the drive back to the farm wouldn’t be as long and hot and uncomfortable as the drive away from it. Cheyanne smiled to herself, wagging her tail behind the chair and against the wall. If nothing else, at least they’d be going home with some good news from the doctor.

She felt a shuffle of movement past her and cracked open an eye, thinking it was Lynn. Instead, it came from a slow-moving fox couple in front of her. Chey muttered an apology before pulling her legs back, tucking her heavy boots under her chair. It wasn’t until they sat down that she noticed how heavily pregnant the female fox was. She wore loose, flowing shirt with a flower design that her round stomach tented out in front of her. Her hands rested on her belly and encircled it like a crystal ball while her mate touched a hand to it as well. The woman was breathing heavily, as if she’d just walked up a steep hill.

She glanced over at Chey, who’s gaze was still lingering on her pregnant belly. As they met eyes, the fox mother smiled bright and friendly. Chey returned it with a smirk and a nod, then turned to her lap and carefully leaned away from the woman. Pregnant women always seemed so fragile and delicate that she felt nervous being around them, like a wrong movement might shatter them like glass. Chey worried if she’d feel the same way around Lynn once she was carrying, but she tended to treat her like she was fragile and delicate anyway.

Speak of the devil, Cheyanne thought as the bathroom across the lobby opened. A tiny canine woman, just barely over four feet tall, wiped her hands on her pants as the door shut behind her. Her long ears, covered in shaggy fur the color of coffee with milk, hung low from her head and rested on her shoulders. As she crossed the room, Lynn’s eyes fell on Cheyanne and she started excitedly fanning her tail and fast-walking toward her.

“I missed you,” Lynn hissed as she hopped up in the chair next to Cheyanne.
“You were only gone for five minutes,” Cheyanne smirked. Her Southern accent was strong, but not overpowering and fit well with her calm, measured tone of speech.
“And I still missed you,” the tiny canine said, sitting up on her knees and licking Chey affectionately on the cheek. There was more than a foot’s height difference between the two dogs, with Lynn barely reaching Chey’s sternum. Chey didn’t mind and sometimes found it convenient to have a girlfriend she could pick up if she wanted to.
Wife, Cheyanne corrected herself as she thumbed the metal band around her finger.

Lynn sat back in the chair and pulled Chey’s arm into an embrace, sighing as she wiggled and nuzzled her face against the tall Australian shepherd. Cheyanne was wary of too much PDA, especially in the South, but she also couldn’t resist Lynn when she got ‘cuddly.’ Chey smiled to herself and reached down to take her hand, hearing the tiny click of her wedding band touching Lynn’s ring. While Chey’s ring was nothing but a simple piece of metal, Lynn’s was silver with a line of stones set into a curving line. It wasn’t like Cheyanne to be flashy, but she also wanted to pay any price to make her wife smile.

“I’m so excited, Chey,” Lynn hissed, wagging her tail so hard her entire body was wiggling. “This is happening, it’s finally happening. We’re really here.”
“I know we are,” Chey nodded, touching her nose to the top of Lynn’s head. Her fur was soft and smooth and smelled like home. “We’re finally doin’ it.”
“Can we get something nice on the way home?” Lynn asked. “To celebrate?”
“For supper?” Chey asked. Lynn licked her chops and nodded excitedly.
“Lynn, it ain’t even noon yet and you’re already thinkin’ about supper,” Cheyanne smirked. She reached around and pinched the soft pudge on her tummy. “You sure you ain’t already pregnant?”
“Stoooop!” Lynn squealed, a little too loudly. The other waiting patients glanced over toward them for a moment, curious at the sound, then turned back. Lynn bit her lip and blushed, whispering, “Sorry.”
As she shifted in her chair, Lynn glanced over to the seat on Cheyanne’s left, then stopped and gazed wide-eyed at the late-term belly on the fox woman. She flicked her eyes up at the mother-to-be, who smiled back at Lynn much like she had Cheyanne.

“Hi,” Lynn breathed, smiling excitedly.
“Hello,” the fox woman said in a quiet voice.
“You…you look really beautiful,” Lynn said, smiling nervously. “When are you due?”
“In a few weeks,” she replied. Taking a breath deep enough to make her round belly rise and fall, she glanced down at herself and patted her full womb. “But I’m ready to get this done with.”
“I’ll bet,” Lynn nodded. “We’re going in today to check my blood work, then set up an appointment for the insemination.”
“Good luck,” the fox smiled warmly. She glanced between Lynn and Cheyanne, hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Are you using a donor?” Chey frowned. While the fox mother seemed tolerant enough, it bothered her to know how obvious it was she and Lynn were a couple.

“We are,” Lynn answered without a moment’s hesitation. “An old friend of mine donated sperm for it.”
“That’s really sweet of him,” the fox said, glancing to her mate who nodded in agreement.
“He’s a really old friend. We’ve known each other forever and talked about it for a long-”
“Oh,” the fox mother huffed suddenly. She put a hand on her belly and sat up, clenching her thighs together. She shuffled to the edge of her seat and motioned for her mate to help her stand. “Sorry to interrupt but…well, this is one of the ‘joys’ of the third trimester you’ll have to look forward to.” The pregnant woman grimaced as she braced a hand against her back and waddled quickly toward the bathroom. Cheyanne watched her go with a frown; the thought of being so uncomfortable in her own body, of not being able to move how she wanted, made her shudder.

“Can you imagine when I’ll be that far along?” Lynn asked, giggling.
“I could roll you around like one of the hay bales,” Cheyanne teased.
“I bet my paws won’t even touch the ground,” Lynn continued to snicker, but she was also hiding excitement in her voice.
After a few more minutes, a nurse stepped out from the back and called out Cheyanne and Lynn’s shared last name. The smaller of the two made an excited yip, then hopped to her paws and dragged Chey out of her seat to follow along. She stood by while Lynn got her normal checkups: weight, height, blood pressure, and temperature, with everything as normal as normal could be for someone of her size. The two of them were then showed into an examination room together, where they waited for longer than seemed necessary for the familiar face of Dr. Mayson to enter the room.

The short, middle-aged sheep woman wore a pair of glasses over her dark face and set of pink scrubs over her woolly fur. She entered with a quick greeting, then sat on a stool not far away and flipped through a folder with Lynn’s full name written on the outside. As her eyes silently scanned the page, her brow furrowed and her shoulders seemed to droop. Dr. Mayson closed the folder and sighed heavily, looking up at Lynn with a pained, sympathetic smile. Lynn, unsure of what to say, simply mimicked the doctor’s smile with her own desperate and pleading one.

“Hi Lynn,” Dr. Mayson said, finally. “There’s…a problem.”
“….Oh.” Lynn blinked at the doctor, her expression falling.
“What kind of problem?” Cheyanne spoke up.
“Well actually…” Dr. Mayson adjusted her glasses and scanned her gaze down the page. “It’s…a few.”
Lynn whined in the back of her throat, but was otherwise silent. She wrung her hands together in her lap, listening intently to the doctor.
“Your uterine lining is very thin, for starters. That isn’t an uncommon thing to see, necessarily, but it’s tricky to bring it up to the right level. Medications can be real hit-or-miss. Based on family history, I think you also might have a bad reaction to the method we use to induce ovulation. You’d said before that your mother had trouble conceiving in the past.”

“Y-Yes…” Lynn nodded while looking at the floor. “Sh-She had two miscarriages before me and I was born a little premature.”
“And you have irregular periods, as well?”
Lynn nodded, crossing her legs shyly.
“How could all’a this come from just one damn blood test?” Cheyanne protested, helpless against her wife’s despair and lashing out at the only person she could.

“We test more than just blood, but we can learn a lot these days from just a small sample and family history.” Dr. Mayson paused and sighed as she flipped through the folder again. She seemed almost as uncomfortable giving the bad news as Lynn was receiving it. “There’s also some…other factors. You have a history of heart disease in your family, as well as high blood pressure, and a pregnancy could have dangerous side-effects on your heart.”
“These are all just maybes though,” Cheyanne said. “These’re just things that could happen, right?” Dr. Mayson frowned and chewed her bottom lip before speaking.

“If…if it were only a few, then I might say it’s worth the risk. But with all of these complications together…I never like to say never, but I think it could be dangerous to move forward without treatments.”
“Well Lynn ain’t gonna be runnin’ around the farm with me or anything,” Cheyanne said, defensively. “I’ll take care of her and make sure she ain’t under a lotta stress.”
“I believe you,” Dr. Mayson smiled, sadly. “But this isn’t a situation where a change in behavior can do much good.” She paused and glanced at Lynn before adding, “There’s also…I’m worried about the sperm donor you picked out.”
“Cameron?” Lynn asked, glancing up fast enough to make her long ears bounce. “What’s wrong with him?”
“There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s healthy with a good family history, good sperm count, no irregularities or mutations.” Dr. Mayson paused, opening and closing her mouth a few times like a fish. “But…he’s a great dane.”

“Is…um…is that…I mean, I thought it might be….is it a problem?” Lynn swallowed. She was a King Charles Cavalier and the tallest member of her family, her father, only barely broke five feet tall. Cameron, by comparison, was a few inches beyond six and a half feet, as tall as three Lynns standing on top of one another.
“Frankly, yes. Canines can normally intermingle breeds and ancestries without much problem, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to mix breeds so different from one another, especially with such a small mother.”
“Dr. Mayson…Ma’am,” Cheyanne began to speak through bared teeth. Lynn reached over and put an arm on her shoulder, drawing her wife’s attention and shaking her head quietly. Cheyanne took a deep breath through her nose, held it for a moment, then let it out through her mouth as she reached out and took Lynn’s hand. “Doctor, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I’d really appreciate a more straight answer one way or another.”

“I wish I could give you one,” Dr. Mayson shook her head. “But…I think if you’re really serious about this, then treatment for your more serious issues is an option. It’s not a guarantee, but it could do some good.”
Lynn glanced at Cheyanne, her eyes sparkling with hope.
“How much does it cost?” Cheyanne asked.
“Well, it depends on your insurance. But Lynn would have to go through a few different treatments and…well, it won’t be cheap. I’m sorry.”
“...Oh.” Lynn and Cheyanne glanced at one another. “We…we don’t have much. We had to save for a few years to afford in-vitro.”
“I wish I could be more help,” Dr. Mayson sighed. It seemed like she meant it. She paused, then removed a few pamphlets and papers from the folder and handed them over to Lynn to browse through. “This doesn’t have to be the end. Adoption and surrogacy are options you can both look into-”

“We tried adoption,” Cheyanne interrupted. “We got rejected. Said we don’t make enough money and ain’t a stable environment.” Chey growled the last word, remembering how long it had taken to console Lynn that night and how angry she’d been at the insult to her farm.
“Surrogacy is…too expensive,” Lynn sighed, handing back the pamphlets. “We’ve looked into it.”
“Well…maybe your circumstances will change,” Dr. Mayson said, smiling at Lynn as warmly as she could. “Don’t give up hope, Lynn.”
“I won’t,” Lynn said, but her voice seemed hollow. “Thank you, doctor.”
“Of course,” Dr. Mayson said, standing from the stool and grasping the door handle. Let me know if anything comes-”

“Wait,” Cheyanne said in a loud voice, holding out a hand. She squeezed Lynn’s fingers, seeing the despair in her eyes that cut her like a knife to the chest. “…What if I had the puppy?”

Dr. Mayson paused, looking at Cheyanne with a thoughtful look of consideration. Lynn, who knew Chey far better than the doctor, widened her eyes in shock.
“I mean…my mama had three kids after me and all…she didn’t have any problems. And I ain’t that much smaller than Cameron, so havin’ a…havin’ a big baby wouldn’t be that big a deal.” Cheyanne sat back in her seat and shrugged nonchalantly, but her leg bounced nervously on the floor.
“Well…I won’t know for sure until we do a blood test, but that might be an alternative.”
“Chey?” Lynn blinked, her mouth falling open as she stared at Cheyanne. “Are…are you sure? I mean, we always planned on me being the one to carry the baby, right? I thought…I thought you didn’t want to?”
“Well yknow…” Cheyanne shrugged, scratching behind her ear. “I guess it ain’t really about what I want anymore. You want a baby, then we’ll have a baby.”

“Are you…I mean…but…” Lynn stammered, but Cheyanne pulled her closer and kissed her on the cheek.
“I don’t mind, Lynn. Really.” Of course, Chey’s heart was pounding in her chest in anticipation of what exactly she was agreeing to, but it didn’t matter to her as long as it made her wife happy. She turned to Dr. Mayson and asked, “C-Can we go ahead and get my blood test started today?”

“If you’re willing to wait for a little while, sure thing,” Dr. Mayson said, smiling and sighing in relief. “I think this is a good solution.”
As soon as the doctor left the room, Lynn hopped down from the examination bench and leapt into Cheyanne’s arms, her tail wagging furiously.
“Chey! You- You’re- You’re really going to do this? For me?”
“For us,” Cheyanne said, kissing Lynn on the top of her head. The idea of carrying a baby was bizarre, to say the least, but the joy on Lynn’s face made it worth it in the end.
I can have a baby, Cheyanne told herself. How hard can it be?

*******************************************************************************************

At the end of the next month, Cheyanne woke up early like she always did, climbing out of the huge, old bed she shared with Lynn. She normally bounded onto the floor with energy as soon as the sun rose, but her joints and muscles ached with a bizarre soreness that made her groggy and slow. Still, there were things to do on the farm before noon and there was nobody else to do them.

She stood and stretched, her tail sticking out of the shorts she wore to bed. As she padded toward the bathroom, her bare paws clicking on the wood floor, she felt the same odd tugging sensation in her stomach, like she’d pulled a muscle or swallowed a heavy weight. As she brushed her teeth, she touched her fingers to her stomach. Cheyanne didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but she had a good idea of what caused the strange feeling.
Without bothering to put any shoes on, Cheyanne walked outside with a basket under her arm, her paws getting wet with the morning dew on the grass, and filled it with a little under a dozen small, brown eggs from the chicken coop behind the house. As she bent over to pick up the eggs, she felt an odd resistance deep in her hips that she didn’t know how to identify. It didn’t restrict her movement, but it was there.

Carrying the eggs across the yard, she walked slowly and wagged her tail as she gazed out over the sprawling countryside she owned, the rolling, early-morning mist over the fields that looked like clouds touching the ground. She could see the highway off in the distance, but it was nearly empty on a Sunday morning. Birds and cicadas both sang, frogs chirped down at the pond at the bottom of the hill, and the air smelled fresh.
Lynn came downstairs half an hour later, one of her long ears flopped over her head. She yawned, her long tongue flopping out of her mouth, and scratched the middle of her chest. Cheyanne was standing at the stove in button-up and shorts, cooking fresh eggs with a spatula. It didn’t matter how early she had to get up, if Chey was going to make breakfast no matter what. She added pepper to the scrambled eggs and sniffed them suspiciously. They smelled especially sharp and strong that morning, but she couldn’t say why.

“Mornin’,” Cheyanne said, wagging her black-orange tail and giggling at Lynn’s groggy expression as she sat at the kitchen table and blinked at nothing.
“Gmorgnin…” Lynn grumbled. Cheyanne flipped the eggs so they wouldn’t stick to the pan, then stepped away and set two cups on the table, filling one with orange juice and the other with sweet tea. She passed the juice to Lynn, who held the cup in both hands as she drank, as she herself sipped the tea while her free hand cooked the eggs.

“Hey…” Lynn said, glancing up at Cheyanne as she set the steaming plate of eggs in the middle of the table. She blinked dimly for a moment, as if trying to remember something crucial. After a moment, her eyes widened and she stared up at Cheyanne. “Hey! It’s sunday!”
“Mm-hmm,” Cheyanne nodded, setting the skillet in the sink and pouring water over it. She paused to tuck her head under the faucet and drank out of it directly, then wiped her mouth on the back of her arm and nodded. “Yep, it’s Sunday.”
“It’s been five days now,” Lynn said, sitting up in her chair. “Are you gonna take the test?”
Cheyanne paused, wringing her hands together at her sides. After a silent moment, she nodded to Lynn.
“Alright,” she nodded. “Go get it from the bathroom.”

Lynn scrambled out of her chair and thundered up the stairs as fast as her short legs could carry her. Cheyanne sat at the kitchen table and spooned eggs onto her plate, eating them quietly with one hand while rubbing the black fur of her stomach with one finger. The short dog returned with a plastic bag, then dropped the three boxes on the table.
“After I eat,” Cheyanne mumbled through a mouthful of eggs. She swallowed, then picked up her sweet tea, sighed, and drank down the rest of the glass in one gulp before pouring herself more.
The two sat eating in silence, listening to the birds through the open window above the sink. Underneath the sound of creaking wooden chairs and forks clinking against plates, Cheyanne could hear the soft whoosh of air made by Lynn’s furiously wagging tail. By the time she was finished with her first plate of eggs and third glass of sweet tea, she made an uncomfortable face and smiled bashfully at Lynn.

“Well,” Chey sighed as she stood and pushed her chair back behind her. “I’ll…be right back.” Cheyanne picked up one of the pregnancy tests on the counter and padded off toward the downstairs bathroom with it.
Lynn quivered in her chair with excitement, the creaking legs almost as loud as the cicadas outside. After a few minutes, the toilet flushed behind the door and Cheyanne came out carrying the bare stick in her hand. She set it on top of the refrigerator, then picked up her plate and calmly took it to the sink to wash it. Chey took her time, carefully scrubbing the grease and specks of pepper from her plate with a sponge, then wiped it with a towel and set it on the rack on the counter to air-dry.

She turned to lean against the sink, drying her hands off on her legs. Cheyanne and Lynn glanced at one another, then both stared at the pregnancy test hanging off the edge of the refrigerator. Chey’s heart pounded so hard and so fast she could see her chest thudding beneath her tanktop. Lynn looked like she was about to explode with anticipation, so Cheyanne walked across the kitchen on shaky legs and carefully plucked the test from the refrigerator, then set it face-down on the table like a playing card and sat next to to Lynn and pulled her chair closer.

“Are you ready?” Lynn asked.
“Nah,” Cheyanne shook her head. “Not really.”
“Me either,” Lynn laughed nervously.
The two stared at the test on the table for minutes as Chey dug a nail into the wooden table, her ears folded flat against her head. Lynn chewed on her finger and tried to keep her breathing steady. Eventually, right as the silent tension reached its tipping point, Lynn reached out and quickly flipped the test face-up with all the flair of a blackjack dealer.
Two lines, as solid and dark as if they’d been drawn with a marker.

“Chey….Chey! Cheyanne!” Lynn shouted, gripping her wife’s arm with one arm and trembling. “It’s positive! It’s positive! CHEY, IT’S POSITIVE! YOU’RE PREGNANT!”
Tears immediately began leaking down Lynn’s cheeks as she laughed and blubbered wordlessly in joy, wrapping Cheyanne in as tight a hug as she could manage, rubbing one small hand over her dark underbelly. Cheyanne herself didn’t say anything and instead picked up the test and stared at it in the light. She touched her second finger to the positive pregnancy test, as if she needed to confirm it was actually there.
“Well…” Cheyanne said, blinking dimly. “…Goddamn.”

“Picture! I wanna get a picture!” Lynn said. She let go of her wife and scrambled up the stairs again, that time to retrieve her charging cell phone from the bedside table. She snatched it from the table, dropped it, then immediately picked it back up again and ran down the stairs as fast as her short legs could carry her. Lynn bounded into the kitchen and started to turn on the camera, but found the room empty and the test abandoned on the table.

“Cheyanne?” Lynn asked. In the silence that followed, a gust of cool, morning air blew in from the front door, which had been left open. Still carrying her phone in her hand, she walked quietly over the creaking wood floor and stepped out onto the porch, the painted boards wet under her paws. Far out in the yard, just before it began to slope down into a hill, Cheyanne sat on the ground with her back to the house and staring out over the field and the distant highway. Lynn hesitated on the porch, feeling guilty that she’d made Chey uncomfortable. She wasn’t the type to jump and cheer and shout her feelings out loud, and Lynn came on strong when she was feeling too excited about something.
After a few minutes, Lynn put her phone down on the porch and stepped into the wet grass, quietly shuffling through it to Cheyanne’s side. She didn’t know at first whether Chey wanted to be alone or not, but her question was answered as Chey, without looking, reached up and took Lynn’s hand gently in her own before pulling her down to sit beside her. Lynn sat cross-legged in the wet grass, her tail and legs getting damp, and shuffled closer to Cheyanne, leaning her head against her side.

Cheyanne took a deep breath, but said nothing. Her right arm was wrapped around Lynn and pulling her close, and her left was in her lap, fingers touching the black fur of her still-flat and trim stomach. Lynn hesitated, then shifted underneath Cheyanne’s arm and rested her palm against Chey’s stomach as well.
“Sorry,” Lynn said quietly, her fingers gently playing with Cheyanne’s soft fur. “I got a little too excited.” Cheyanne’s breathed out a silent chuckle, then playfully shook Lynn under her arm.
“Got nothin’ ta be sorry for,” Cheyanne said, kissing the top of Lynn’s head.
Lynn wagged her tail in the wet grass and pressed her fingers into Cheyanne’s stomach, where deep deep deep inside, their puppy was growing.

“How do you feel?” she asked. Cheyanne paused for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip before prodding a finger into her stomach.
“Like I got a fish hook or somethin’ hooked into me and…tugging.” Chey mimed a fishing line tugging on her stomach. “I don’t hurt. Just strange.”
“Are you…happy?” Lynn asked.
Cheyanne took a deep breath again and sighed, feeling her stomach again.
“I…don’t know,” she admitted. “I think I’m…afraid.” She shifted. ““I never thought I’d be havin’ a puppy myself. I don’t wanna mess all this up.”

“You won’t,” Lynn said with totally confidence. “You never mess anything up.”
Cheyanne smiled and pulled Lynn closer.
“Are you happy?” she asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Lynn asked. “We’re having a baby.”
“Then I’m happy,” Cheyanne said. She smiled and leaned back in the grass, staring up at the early-morning sky. Lynn turned on her side and gave Chey’s belly a soft kiss.
“One for you,” she said, then kissed it again. “And one for the baby.”
“Well,” Cheyanne sighed with her hands behind her head. “Ready or not…”

****************************************************************************************************

After a few months of cool, refreshing spring, the muggy heat of a Georgia summer was starting to fog up the air. Cheyanne didn’t like the heat, but she was built for it and knew what to expect from summers on the farm. She found it most helpful to simply get up earlier and earlier in the morning. If she could wake up long before the sun rose, then she’d have hours to work before the air started to become oppressively hot around noon. If she worked quickly and efficiently, she might be able to finish most of the chores before lunchtime.

She woke up in the morning while Lynn was still dead asleep. Chey needed to carefully slip her arm from beneath her sleeping wife. Thankfully, before the sun actually rose, Lynn was nearly impossible to wake. Once Cheyanne pulled her arm free, the small dog flopped onto her side, curled into a ball, and continued snoring steadily.
As Cheyanne got dressed, throwing on an old work-shirt, she paused at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The bump in her stomach was big enough to rub against the inside of her shirt and she could see its outline from the outside. Pinching the bottom of her shirt, Cheyanne pulled it tight around her stomach to better see the rounded bump just above her hips. With one hand, she smoothed her palm over its surface. Two weeks ago, she’d been able to cup it in her hand, but that morning, Cheyanne could barely stretch her fingers far enough to reach either side. In just a few days, she’d probably be big enough to hold her belly with both hands without them touching.

“Well…I’ll be damned,” Cheyanne said to herself in the silent bathroom as she looked at her reflection. “There’s a baby in there, alright.”
She finished getting dressed and stopped to stand over the sleeping Lynn in the bedroom, watching her breathe gently. Cheyanne touched her shoulder, feeling it rise and fall with her breath. She shifted and Cheyanne pulled her hand away, afraid that she’d woken her, but Lynn just licked her lips in her sleep and continued snoring away, undisturbed. Cheyanne smiled and bent over to peck Lynn on the cheek, noting the resistance her growing belly gave her, and crept out of the room with her boots in hand.

Most of Cheyanne’s early chores she did by flashlight and tried not to overwork herself. She was stubborn and refused to let her pregnancy slow her down, but that didn’t mean she was going to put her or the puppy at risk. She noticed she tended to tire more quickly than before, but that didn’t stop her from working at what needed to be done.
First were milking the cows, not the quickest job to be done and one she preferred not to start with, but it needed to be done as soon as possible to keep the cows from mooing in pain. As Cheyanne carried the stool and bucket from one cow to the other, she could feel her belly protruding from her stomach each time she sat and absentmindedly rubbed it with a palm while milking the cows with one hand. Most of the time, she was too focused on work to think of much more than whatever needed to be done next, but the reality of her pregnancy was impossible to ignore. Cheyanne found herself getting easily distracted while feeling her small belly, or noticing changes to her sense of balance or flexibility. She knew her own body well enough that even the slightest changes were obvious to her. She knew she was pregnant only a week after the implantation just from subtle changes alone.

Once the sun broke the horizon and she could see, she shoveled the barn clean and scraped out the dirty straw, then wheeled the dung to the backyard garden. She was already panting and exhausted by then, where she used to be able to finish in little more than fifteen minutes with little more than sore palms. Standing, Cheyanne stretched her back, feeling her belly poking out against her shirt as she did. She frowned and cupped her palm to it, frowning. She’d expected to just suck it up and work on the farm as long as she could, up until the birth if need be, but Chey was barely into her first trimester and already had difficulties. Maybe being pregnant wasn’t something she could just tough out.

Once she’d emptied the wheelbarrow and sprayed it down with the hose, she skipped over the next, more physically taxing chores she usually did and went straight for the field beside the house. Sometimes, she’d simply hop over the wire fence to avoid the hassle of opening and closing the gate, but she wasn’t quite as confident about it as she once was, so Cheyanne just unhooked the wooden gate.
In bare paws, she walked through the grass to a small shed on the edge of the fence and removed a heavy, half-empty bag of dried pellets from a large wooden box. After she turned on a nearby spigot to fill a metal tub with water, Cheyanne grunted as she held the bag high in the air and began to shake it, the sound echoing far across the field.

While at she at first heard nothing, Chey had long learned to be patient and continued to shake the bag. Her ears twitched as she heard the far away sound of something similar to heavy rain falling on a rooftop. But as it approached, it grew louder and louder and louder until she was finally able to spot her flock of white, fluffy sheep all shuffling over the hill, bleating and clumped together in a tight crowd. Cheyanne smiled at the sight of them and stopped shaking the bag. Before the sheep got there, she carried it to a wooden trough and turned the bag over, emptying the food into it and nudging it with her foot to evenly distribute it.

Most of the sheep bleated hungrily and headed straight for the food while the stragglers settled for lapping up the rising pool of water in the metal bin. The last of them plodded around lazily, chewing on grass or gathering around Cheyanne and expectantly bleating at her in case she had any food for them. The shepherd chuckled to herself, reaching down and scratching one of them behind the ears, their wool soft and pleasant to the touch despite being dirty with straw. Dr. Mayson couldn’t have been more different from her feral counterparts, and while it was very rude to compare an anthros and ferals of the same species, Cheyanne couldn’t help but think of the doctor when she looked proudly at her flock.

She shuffled slowly through the crowd of sheep, nudging them out of the way with her knees. Cheyanne ducked below the woolly sea and emerged with a tiny, struggling lamb in her arms. She carried the newborn closer to the food trough, nudged room for it with her legs, then gently set it down before the food where it eagerly began munching on the pellets. She stroked it twice down its back, watching its tiny tail flap like a duckling’s, and stood up again, feeling the strain of her belly as she did.
On the far end of the trough, taking up a spot for herself, was one sheep Cheyanne had been keeping an eye on for the past few weeks. The sheep’s sides bulged out tightly, belly hanging heavily from her body with an obvious pregnancy. Cheyanne nudged her way through the flock and knelt beside the pregnant sheep, resting an arm on her side and patting her belly.

“Hey girl,” Cheyanne said to her as she munched ravenously on the food. “How ya feelin’?” She touched a hand to the mother sheep’s belly, but she bleated impatiently at the touch and shied away.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Cheyanne chuckled, patting her own developing baby bump. “I think I’m starting to sympathize.” She paused, then reached toward the ewe’s head and gently turned the ear tag toward her, making sure it was the same sheep she was thinking of.
“Yknow girl, I think you might-a given birth to ‘bout a third of the lambs out here,” Cheyanne said. “You damn sure got experience.” She paused, taking her hands off the pregnant sheep’s bulging middle and touching her own slight bump with a quiet sigh. “…Got some advice for a first-timer? ‘Cause I don’t know what the hell I’m doin’…”

The ewe glanced up from the food, turned a square-pupiled eye toward Cheyanne, and made a sound that was less of a bleat and more of a belch. Chey smiled to herself and wagged her tail, scratching behind the sheep’s ear affectionately.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, pushing herself up to her paws. “Take it easy, big mama. For the two of us.”
After turning off the spigot and making sure there was enough food left for the rest of the flock, Cheyanne carefully left through the wooden gate, checking behind her to make sure none of the sheep followed her. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d had to chase down an escaping lamb as it frolicked straight toward the highway, but she wasn’t in a hurry to do it again, especially given her condition.

Once the sheep were taken care of, Cheyanne did her best to work on the rest of her chores, but found she was growing more exhausted by the second. She’d done the same routine every single day, but she couldn’t get through the simplest of tasks without stopping to rest every few minutes, her muscles sore and throbbing. She drank water from the hose and soaked herself with it more than once, but it wasn’t enough to get much of her stamina back. By the time she’d managed to clean out the hen house, collect the eggs, till the garden, and dump the compost, the sun was blazing high and hot in the sky, making the air shimmer with a wet, sticky heat that was only getting worse. Cheyanne’s tongue lolled out of her mouth as she panted and the sunlight burned against the dark patches of her fur and made it feel like she was burning. Even breathing felt like swallowing bathwater. There was still more to do, so much more to take care of, but even the stubborn Cheyanne had to admit she’d reached her limit.

Later in the day, Lynn woke up with her arms and legs wrapped around one pillow and her head tucked under another. The smooth, cool sheets on her face felt indescribably comfortable and she could have slept for another six hours, but the groaning sound of the old pipes woke her unexpectedly. She rubbed the back of her hand against her eyes and yawned, her long tongue flopping out of the side of her mouth as she did. Sitting up, Lynn blinked groggily at the sunlight coming through the window, whining as she rubbed sleep out of her eyes. Her ears were tangled around one another on top of her head and she awkwardly pulled them apart with her clumsy, sleepy fingers. Lynn was always more of a night-owl, especially in college, but she often forced herself to get up earlier than normal so she and Cheyanne could be on a similar schedule. Though she drew the line at Chey’s habit of getting up before the sun was even up. Lynn loved her wife, but she wasn’t that crazy.

Lynn checked her phone, cocking her head to the side curiously. By that time, Cheyanne was usually busy out in the yard finishing chores while she was inside cooking lunch for the two of them. But the way the old pipes groaned and shuddered through the house told Lynn that Chey was inside somewhere, bathing of all things. Maybe Lynn had gotten too used to routine; nothing shook things up like having a baby on the way.
The little dog climbed out of bed and stretched her arms high above her head, pirouetting in a little circle on the floor as she did so. It’d been over a decade since she’d done ballet, but some habits were almost impossible to shake. She scratched behind her ears and stepped into the bathroom to brush away the taste of her own mouth.

“Mornin’,” said Cheyanne’s easy, butter-smooth voice. Lynn blinked open her blurry eyes to find Cheyanne standing naked beneath the shower with the curtain open, her fur soaked and clinging to every curve of her body. Her wide hips and strong, stocky thighs framed the early-term curve of her baby bump, all the more visible beneath the shiny, wet fur. Pregnancy certainly suited her. Cheyanne’s breasts, while not particularly large, were perky and went nicely with her fit upper body. Turning off the shower, Chey turned toward Lynn without a moment of shame and slicked her hair back from over her eyes. “Sleep good?”
“Mm-hmm,” Lynn nodded, unable to take her eyes off of Cheyanne’s body.
“Had to get up and pee a couple times,” Cheyanne said absentmindedly as she touched a hand to her belly. “But I ain’t really throwin’ up anymore.” Lynn almost grumbled in disappointment as Chey crouched back down into the water of the bathtub, but at least she was able to think straight again without her libido in the way.

“I thought you’d still be outside,” she remarked as she picked up a cup beside the sink and filled it from the faucet.
“Yeah well…” Cheyanne hesitated as Lynn drank, then shrugged and answered, “Just got too hot out, I guess.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Lynn said, gasping after downing the glass of water and filling up a second one. She hadn’t been so sure what to think of well-water when they’d first moved into the farmhouse, but after a couple years, she didn’t want to drink anything else. “It’s dangerous for you to be out there working for too long,” Lynn scolded her. “For you and the puppy.”
“I know, I know,” Cheyanne said, waving dismissively. “Why’d you think I stopped?”
“Well…good,” Lynn nodded, curtly. “I know you’re basically Wonder Woman, but you’ve gotta learn to take it easy for a while. Before the baby is born, at least.”
“Don’t think I know how to take it easy,” Cheyanne shrugged.

“You’ll figure it out,” Lynn said. Chey shifted in the tub, sitting up high enough for Lynn to catch sight of one of her breasts. “And I’d be happy to help…” Lynn said, smiling devilishly, her words dripping with innuendo.
“Will ya, now?” Cheyanne smirked, her wet hair falling over her eyes. She shifted her legs under the water. “Think there’s room for one more.”
Lynn’s eyes lit up as she stepped out of her pajamas and tossed them into the bedroom. Her tail wagged too furiously to easily take off her panties, but once she did, she stepped toward the tub as slow and sexy as she could.

“Gddjgaaah!” Lynn gasped wordlessly as she stepped into the water. “It’s cold!”
“Yeah it’s cold! ‘Cause it’s damn near one-hundred-and-fuckin’-three degrees outside!” Cheyanne shook her head and pulled Lynn into the water, sloshing some over the side. The smaller dog spluttered and shivered in the cold water, blinking up at Cheyanne with her large, vulnerable eyes. “It’s not that cold.”
“It is!” Lynn protested, splashing her hands in the water. “I thought this was gonna be a warm bath not a…not a…” Lynn pouted, at a loss for words, then just repeated, “It’s cold!”

“C’mere you big baby,” Cheyanne said, pulling Lynn closer. “You’ll warm up soon enough.” Chey turned to the side in the tub and tucked Lynn in the crook of her right arm, while Lynn turned over and rested her head just below Cheyanne’s collarbone and cuddled as close as she could. Cheyanne was tall enough to brace her legs against the other end of the tub and keep both of their heads above water. It was far from the first time they’d gotten in the bath together. Cheyanne tucked her head in and kissed Lynn on the top of her head, then got splashed with water from her wife’s wagging tail.
“Who are you calling ‘big baby?’” Lynn asked coyly as she touched a finger to the curve of Cheyanne’s belly, which was slightly above the waterline. “I think there’s an island on the way up.”
“I guess so,” Cheyanne said, having not noticed her bump sticking above the water until Lynn pointed it out.
“I can’t wait until it’s a mountain,” Lynn said cheerfully as she patted a wet hand to Chey’s tummy.
“Don’t make me nervous, now,” Cheyanne shuddered. “I ain’t exactly lookin’ forward to that.”

“Why not? It’ll be so cute!” More water sloshed over the side as Lynn pulled her other arm from between the two of them and framed Cheyanne’s bump between both of her hands. “When you’ll have a real baby belly and the pup starts moving…I can’t wait for that.”
“It’ll be…somethin’,” Cheyanne nodded anxiously as Lynn’s hands explored the curves of her belly. It felt strange, but not necessarily in a bad way.
“I’m sorry,” Lynn said, pulling her hands away and wrapping Cheyanne in a wet hug. “I made you nervous.”
“Nah, I’m alright,” Cheyanne said, swallowing.
“Uh-uh,” Lynn said, shaking her head. “No, you’re nervous. C’mon, what are you thinking?”
Cheyanne hesitated, still taken off guard by how well Lynn could read her emotions.

“Well…I uh…” Chey huffed through her nose, blowing water from her face. She had so many conflicting thoughts and worries flying through her hormone-soaked brain that she could barely concentrate on just one. She wasn’t used to sharing so many of her emotions, so she decided to keep it practical.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to keep up with the farm by myself,” Cheyanne sighed, touching her bump. “Least not ‘til I have the baby.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” Lynn asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought we already knew that? It’s not like you’ll be chasing down sheep while you’re nine months pregnant, right?” Lynn paused, then snickered to herself at the image.
“No, but I figured I could manage on my own ‘til we hired more hands for the fall harvest,” Cheyanne said, dejectedly. “But…I’m not so sure anymore. I might need to hire some help before that, but I ain’t so sure we can afford it.”
“I mean…maybe we can budget for an extra set of hands. Maybe from some kids in town for the little stuff,” Lynn suggested. “But if we can’t…then maybe I could handle it?”

Cheyanne glanced down at Lynn, then smiled and kissed her again.
“Bless your heart. You’re too sweet,” she said, squeezing her closer.
“Hey, don’t do that,” Lynn protested, sitting up to look Cheyanne in the eye. “I’m serious. I’m not just a little trophy wife, I wanna help out, too. I can. Don’t act like I’m just a little girl.”
Cheyanne blinked at Lynn, who glared down at her, before folding back her own ears and glancing away apologetically.
“You’re right. That was disrespectful. I’m sorry.” She hesitated, then said, “I’m just worried about you, Lynn. I grew up in the country, I’m used to all this shit. It’s hard work and there ain’t no cuttin’ corners.”
“That’s fine,” Lynn nodded with a determined look on her face. “I can do it.” After a moment, her expression softened and she rested a hand on Cheyanne’s bump. “I knew I’d have to step up and be more of a help while you’re carrying. I just want you to let me.”

Cheyanne remained silent while she and Lynn stared at one another. To her, she and Lynn made a good team, where Lynn could handle the numbers and logistics of running the farm while Cheyanne did all the labor. She’d never considered she might be underestimating her wife with that thinking, but maybe it was something she needed to change.
“Okay,” Chey nodded in return. “If you really think you can handle it, I can walk you through the chores sometime.”
“I’d like that,” Lynn smiled, wagging her tail under the water. “I live here too, yknow. I can help. I want to help. You shouldn’t be working so hard with a bun in the oven.”
“I like workin’,” Cheyanne shrugged. “Feels nice to keep things runnin’ with my own two hands.” She glanced down at her belly, which for a split second seemed to have grown in the past fifteen minutes, until she realized it was just from the water slowly draining from the old tub. “But…I figure I do need the help.”
“You do,” Lynn agreed. She followed Cheyanne’s gaze down to her middle, then smiled again and touched it. “It’s not like the baby’s getting any smaller in there.”
“I’ll say,” Cheyanne sighed, sliding her hands down her belly to measure its shape and size. “Feels like I’m a little too big.”

“It’ll be a big pup, no question. You’ve seen Cameron.” Lynn paused, sitting up on her knees and looking over Cheyanne’s curvy body stretched out below her, fit and healthy from years of working outside. Lynn grinned toothily and traced a finger from Cheyanne’s belly to the inside of her shapely thigh.
“You look good,” Lynn said, softly. She gently placed one hand on the underside of Chey’s thigh and followed it down to her rear end. “You look…feminine.”
“Last time I checked,” Cheyanne said slyly as she took a deep breath and slightly angled her chest forward, “that was somethin’ you liked.”
“Mm-hmm,” Lynn said wordlessly. She shifted in the water and sat astride Cheyanne’s hips, her own torso above the tub. She reached down and trailed her fingers over Chey’s bump, as if she couldn’t take her hands off it. “I can’t wait until you’re big and I can have you all to myself.”

“Seems to me like you already do,” Cheyanne said, wagging her tail under the water and pulling Lynn into a long, passionate kiss.
They two of them didn’t get out of the tub until the water was warm again.

*****************************************************************************************************

Lynn’s ears twitched as she groggily opened her eyes in the darkness. She’d been trying to wake up earlier as preparation for work on the farm, but her instinct was to pass out and stay asleep until at least noon. It wasn’t like her to naturally wake up in the middle of the night. She flopped onto her stomach and reached for her phone on the bedside table. The light nearly blinded her and she winced in discomfort before her eyes adjusted and she found it was nearly three in the morning, long before even Cheyanne had to be awake.

Lynn set her phone down and was just about to drift off back to sleep before a far-away, metallic clang woke her again. Sleepily, she sat up and lifted her long ears with her hands, trying to find the source of the noise. There was a faint light creeping under the bedroom door and the bustle of activity in the kitchen below.
“Cheeyne?” Lynn grumbled in an attempt to say her wife’s name as she reached over to the other side of the bed. It was empty, the covers thrown aside and a long-cold imprint in the mattress was all Cheyanne had left behind. Lynn rubbed half of he face with her palm and tried to make sense of what was happening, but was too exhausted to think clearly. Instead, she climbed out of bed and tottered sleepily toward the bedroom door.
Lynn winced with a hand held over her eyes as she rounded the corner and was blinded by the light in the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes with both hands and blinked until she could see more than shapeless blurs.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead!” Cheyanne’s voice called animatedly. The tall shepherd was standing in front of the stove with a spatula in one hand while she gripped the handle of a griddle with the other. She wore an old, checkered apron that was just barely tented out over the lump of her pregnant belly. While waiting for a response, she turned back to the stove and scraped the spatula in the pan.
“Morning?” Lynn answered, confusedly. “It’s not even three AM yet, Chey…”
“Damn, is it that early?” Cheyanne asked, her voice peppy without a hint of exhaustion. “I didn’t even check.”
“Chey…what are you doing?” Lynn asked.
“Breakfast!” Cheyanne said proudly as she picked up the pan from the stove and showed off a pile of scrambled eggs.
“Breakfast,” Lynn repeated, skeptically. “At three in the morning?”
“Seemed as good a time as any,” Cheyanne shrugged. “Woke up hungry, figured I didn’t wanna wait.” She set the pan down and suddenly folded her ears back. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No,” Lynn lied,” I was getting up to use the bathroom.”
“Oh good,” Cheyanne sighed, wagging her tail. “I hoped I could just let you sleep.”
“…So wait,” Lynn said as she padded into the kitchen and looked at the stack of pancakes, waffles, eggs, sausage, and hashbrowns already plated on the table. “Are you saying this is all just for you?”
“Well uh…” Cheyanne laughed bashfully and scratched the back of her head while one free hand patted her belly. “Yeah, I s’pose. Figured this’s what they mean by ‘eatin’ for two.’” She gestured to the plates of food on the table with her spatula. “You’re welcome to have some, though.”
“That’s okay,” Lynn said sleepily as she climbed into a chair. “I’m not hungry.”

“If you’re thirsty, I’m makin’ sweet tea, too,” Cheyanne said, pointing to a pair of pitchers next to the sink. One was still steeping with almost ten teabags floating in it while the other was cooled with ice cubes and had a large spoon standing in it. Admittedly parched, Lynn climbed down from the chair and picked up a glass out of the sink, rinsing it out before she poured a cup of tea for herself.
“Ugh,” Lynn grimaced after swallowing her first sip. “Oh my god.”
“What?” Cheyanne asked, turning on one paw. “It ain’t too bitter, is it?”
“No, too sweet!” Lynn said, smacking her tongue. “It tastes like syrup.”
“You think so?” Cheyanne asked. She set down the spatula and crossed over the Lynn. She took the glass out of her hand, drank a sip, then made a pleased expression and drank half the glass. “Mmm! Tastes alright to me!”
“I think maybe you’re just having a craving,” Lynn chuckled to herself as she patted Cheyanne’s belly beneath the apron. “But uhh…I’ll just get some water…”

“Y’all want some pancakes?” Cheyanne asked as Lynn emptied the tea down the sink and poured herself cold well-water instead.
“Okay,” Lynn nodded, finding it impossible not to feel a little hungry with the mountains of food around her. Her ear twitched at a tearing sound and she turned to find Cheyanne opening a third box of pancake batter. “W-Wait, I only wanted a few.”
“I know,” Cheyanne said cheerfully as she poured the batter in the pot next to the stove and cracked eggs into it. “I was gonna eat the rest of ‘em.”

Lynn sat at the kitchen table with her glass of water and watched in amazement as Cheyanne nearly cooked the kitchen out of breakfast food. She made a mental list of everything her pregnant wife made so she could remember to pick up replacements at the store. It wasn’t until 3:30 in the morning that everything was finally finished cooking. Cheyanne carried the tea pitcher and plates of food to the table, then took off her apron and hung it on a hook next to the refrigerator. She wore a thin, white undershirt that was very quickly being outpaced by her expanding baby belly, already stretched to its limit just to cover all but a thin patch of black fur still visible beneath it.
“Good Lord, I’m ‘bout to starve,” Cheyanne said as she dropped into her seat at the table, her belly shaking slightly as she did. She poured herself the tallest glass of sweet tea that could fit in the cup and drank it down in seconds. Licking her lips happily, she piled on four pancakes, three spoonfuls of scrambled eggs with pepper and cheese, a pile of hashbrowns, and a biscuit in her free hand that she ate at the same time as she spooned everything else into her mouth.

“Chey, slow down,” Lynn said concernedly as she watched her pregnant wife inhale half the dinner table in mere minutes.
“Sorry,” Cheyanne mumbled through her full mouth. She paused to swallow, then laughed haughtily and patted her belly. It wasn’t quite big enough for her to look definitively ‘pregnant,’ but she was thoroughly swollen. “Guess the baby got themselves a big appetite.”
This made Lynn laugh as Cheyanne continued to stuff her face. In less than ten minutes, her plate was empty of everything but pancake syrup and she was eagerly piling on seconds.
“Oh…” Cheyanne paused as she realized there was less food left than she realized. She’d unknowingly eaten half of everything she’d made and glanced guiltily at Lynn. “I uhh…you want me to make you a plate?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lynn giggled. “You’ve got a baby to feed.”

“You sure, darlin’?” Cheyanne asked, cocking her head to the side. As she leaned over the table, Lynn saw that her belly was just big enough to touch it. This made her chuckle again and Lynn waved her aside.
“You made it, so dig in. I’m not hungry this early, anyway.”
Cheyanne grinned, her tongue hanging out of her mouth and her tail wagging happily. She set aside the dinner plate she’d been using and instead pulled the half-full serving plates to her place at the table and began to eat directly off them. After a while, Chey had finally begun to slow down as the plates were starting to empty. She sat back in her chair with a satisfied look on her face. She fed one last forkful of eggs into her mouth before setting it down and resting both hands on her belly, stroking it gently.
“Feel better?” Lynn asked. Cheyanne nodded wordlessly with a contented sigh.
“I’m sure the baby’s happy,” Lynn smiled. Cheyanne smiled with her full mouth and patted her hands on her swollen baby belly.
“I ain’t felt ‘em move yet,” Cheyanne said as she swallowed the eggs. “But I’m sure they’re doin’ back-flips in there.”

“At least they won’t be underfed, that’s for sure,” Lynn remarked. She watched the way Cheyanne’s fingers stroked her rounded tummy and the way she looked down at her widening middle. “Yknow…Chey, you seem a lot more comfortable than you did before.”
“I do?” Cheyanne asked, her words slurring together slightly. “What d’you mean?”
“I mean that you seem to be more relaxed about being pregnant,” Lynn said. “It’s like you’re starting to enjoy it, sometimes.”

“I dunno if I’d go that far,” Cheyanne chuckled as she looked down at her belly. “But…I think I’m startin’ to get used to it. It ain’t as bad as I thought it’d be. I can still feel like myself while I feel pregnant.” She poked a finger above where her bellybutton was visible through the fabric. “And it’s makin’ me feel…a little more happy that we’re gonna have a little pup around. I’m...starting to feel…excited...” Cheyanne paused, her eyelids drooping slightly and she shook her head to stay awake.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” Lynn sighed. “I was worried that…maybe you’d been roped into something you didn’t want to do. And you’re already making a big sacrifice to carry the pup when I can’t, so I hated to think you didn’t want to. But…I know it takes a lot to have a baby, but I know you’ll rise to the challenge. There’s nobody that believes in you more than me, Chey. If you can run this farm by yourself like you do, then having a baby should be no prob-”

Lynn was interrupted by a low, grumbling snore from Cheyanne. While Lynn thought she was just looking down at her own pregnant belly, she’d actually nodded off and fallen asleep at the kitchen table, her hands still resting on her full stomach as it rose and fell. Lynn smiled and climbed down from her chair. After quietly piling the empty dishes into the sink and rinsing them with water, she turned most of the lights in the kitchen off, then quietly walked up to Cheyanne and kissed her belly between her hands. Then, standing on the tips of her paws, Lynn gently kissed the tip of Cheyanne’s nose before slumping upstairs to catch up from some sleep, the smell of breakfast still lingering in her nostrils.
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