How Do I Know Piper Is Pregnant?

Even after decades of training dogs, the early days of a new pregnancy still stir something in me—curiosity, quiet anticipation, and a genuine sense of wonder. I’ve watched many females go through these stages, but it never becomes routine. Each litter has its own story, and each mother tells it in her own way. Right now, that story belongs to Piper.

This summer’s breeding was a repeat pairing—a proven combination that produced strong, healthy puppies last year. Piper was in top condition going into her cycle: fit, athletic, and thriving. I had her on high-quality nutrition well before her heat started, and began prenatal vitamins on the first day of her cycle. We ran a series of progesterone tests to pinpoint ovulation, and based on those numbers, we timed three breedings carefully. Everything lined up. By all accounts, she should be pregnant.

But the calendar doesn't confirm pregnancy. I have to rely on what I know—what I’ve seen before and what I’m seeing now.

One of the earliest signs came on days 24, 25, and 28. Piper had morning sickness. That’s never part of her usual behavior, except when she’s pregnant. She may start her breakfast, but doesn’t finish it, then spends part of the morning a little subdued. With both of her previous litters, this exact symptom showed up—always on day 27. It’s not universal for all dogs, but for Piper, it’s a clear pattern. And now, it’s back.

Another sign, less scientific but equally compelling, is something I see in her dam, Kaila. Around day 28, Kaila began producing milk. She’s not pregnant—hasn’t been in a long time—but I’ve seen this maternal response before. Somehow, she picks up on Piper’s hormonal changes. It triggers her mothering instinct, and her body prepares, as if she’s ready to help raise the next generation. I don’t know what chemical signals pass between them, but I trust what I see. Kaila knows before I do.

Then there are the subtle changes in Piper herself. She’s always been sweet, but lately, that affection has deepened. She wants to be close. She leans into me more. She asks for connection. Her eyes are softer. I don’t need a lab test to tell me that something’s shifted inside her. She knows she’s carrying something important.

By day 30, her appetite began to increase noticeably. She's still polite with her food—she doesn’t bolt it down—but she finishes her meals with purpose now. Her nipples have enlarged, and around day 33, her belly started to round. It’s not dramatic yet, but I know what I’m looking for. The changes are subtle, but real.

She especially loves her belly rubbed these days. That’s nothing new, but now there’s a peacefulness to it that feels different. And more often than not, I find her lying flat on her back, legs sprawled comfortably in the air, inviting that touch. It’s one of her classic pregnant postures, and she’s already doing it again—as you can see in the picture. That kind of contented surrender tells me a lot.

I don’t have scientific proof for this next part, but I’ll say it anyway: I believe puppies learn love in the womb. When Piper relaxes under my hand, and those unborn puppies are gently jostled in the process, I think they feel it. They feel the calm, the contentment. Maybe they’re already learning that human touch means safety and connection. That might be me projecting human ideas onto canine behavior, but after all these years, I still find myself believing it.

We’re not quite far enough along to feel movement yet—that usually starts around day 45—but I’m looking forward to it. A few days after that, I’ll begin to see them moving, playing, shifting inside her. It never gets old. I’ve scheduled Piper’s x-ray for July 12, which should give me a good idea of how many puppies to expect. It’s a helpful tool, not just for curiosity’s sake, but for knowing when the delivery is truly complete.

Her due date is officially July 20, but if I had to bet, I’d say she’ll whelp on the 19th. These dogs tend to follow their own sense of timing, and Piper’s always been just a little early.

The signs are there. Not flashy. Not obvious. But familiar, steady, and strong. Every stage of pregnancy is a mix of biology, behavior, and instinct—not just for the dog, but for the breeder too. It’s about paying attention, trusting what you see, and knowing your dog well enough to hear what she’s telling you, even when she can’t speak it.

I’ll share more as the days go on. For now, I’m watching, supporting, and hoping. The next generation is on its way.