Our Dachshunds - Part 2

How we went from one to five…

In 2009, we started to think about all of the dogs with no families of their own and realized that we had the resources to give a dog a great home.  I started looking at the available dogs on the DRNA website, and came across a 14 year old black-and-tan miniature Dachshund who was completely deaf and about 90% blind.  I figured that this dog, Molly, had little chance of being adopted, given her age and health issues.  I decided to fill out the application even though we do not have a fenced in yard, which is typically a requirement.  I thought they may overlook it because of Molly’s age and conditions – we wouldn’t be letting her roam around outside unsupervised anyway!

We received an email the next day and was told that Molly was part of a bonded pair that DRNA was not willing to separate…she had a daughter, Gunni, who was 12 and a red (brown fur) miniature Dachshund.  They had been together their whole lives and had only ever lived with one lady who unfortunately was placed in an assisted living facility.  The lady’s family did not want Molly and Gunni, so they surrendered them to a shelter.  Because of their age, they were scheduled for euthanasia because the shelter did not believe they would ever be adopted, but thankfully, DRNA was made aware of them and rescued them from the shelter.  This is why we think of Gunni as our “bonus” dog – we planned on one, but got two – and what an unexpected gift she has been.  So gentle and kind, and by far the best behaved of our herd.

We were asked if we would consider adopting both of them, and we only had to think about it for three seconds before we knew we would take both of them if we were approved.  Chelsea was almost 10 and had technically been an only dog for her entire life – although the “family” dogs were like her sisters and they had each lived with us for short periods of time as my mom moved from Pennsylvania to Virginia.  Still, we figured she would enjoy having two little old ladies to keep her company during the day.

We had a representative from DRNA come and interview us and do a home inspection, and we were nervous because of the lack of fence.  However, we think she was sold within the first few minutes because our kitchen is filled with Dachshund things and it does not take a trained professional to quickly determine that Chelsea lives like a princess.  We have about two acres of property, much of it wooded, and we live up on a hill with only four other houses, so there is very little traffic – a definite plus.  She also saw my personalized license plate, which is Dachshund-related, and that possibly put us over the top.  J

So we were approved and told that our timing was perfect because there would be a meet-and-greet at a nearby elementary school where DRNA brings the available dogs and the approved adoptive families to meet one another in just a few days.  We were very excited about meeting Molly and Gunni and asked my mom to come to the event with us, since she would be watching them for us whenever we traveled.  We had no idea how it worked, so when we arrived, we were quite surprised to see many dogs – I would estimate between 30 and 40 – all with their foster families, and about 30 adoptive families.  Most families did not know which dog they would be adopting, because DRNA wants to be sure that the family and the dog are a good fit, once they’ve met each other.  We were in a different position, because we were adopting a senior pair with special needs, so we knew we were there to meet Molly and Gunni and that no other family was “in the running” to adopt them.

When we met Molly and Gunni, we immediately fell in love with them.  We also enjoyed observing the other families meeting dogs, taking them for short walks, introducing them to the dogs they already had, and clearly favoring the one they wanted to adopt.  We kept seeing this one particular black-and-tan piebald (black and white and spotted – kind of like a cow pattern) miniature Dachshund who wagged her tail the entire time and went happily with any family who approached her for a walk or a belly rub or a hug, including us.  It was absolutely love at first sight and we actually began feeling territorial and annoyed watching other families interact with her for the remainder of the event!  We could not take our eyes off this dog!  It was so obvious that Molly and Gunni’s foster mom said to us that she couldn’t help noticing how enamored we were with this other dog and that she would completely understand if we didn’t want to take Molly and Gunni.  We told her emphatically that we would take Molly and Gunni, but the other dog was making us consider adopting three dogs instead of two!

In the meantime, my mom had found herself a little friend who sat in her arms with such a look of contentment on her face – like she had found her place in the world.  She was a red brindle (striped) miniature Dachshund.  My mom was already approved to adopt, as she had adopted both Murphy and Carmen, both of whom had special needs and the folks at DRNA knew what an amazing dog owner she is.

We were the last people to leave, and the foster families were gathering up the dogs to go home with them (no one gets their dog that day).  DRNA reviews which family wants which dog and makes a decision, after which time they arrange for the adoptive family to pick up their dog on another day when the dogs have not been subjected to so much activity and excitement.  Before leaving, the adoptive families were required to write their top three dog choices beside their printed name on a DRNA form.  Because we had just been approved two days beforehand, our names were not printed on the form and we had to add them at the bottom of the page.  My mom wrote that she was interested in adopting “Summer” and then it was our turn.  I was super nosy and scanned everyone’s choices and saw “Madison” listed as the first choice of many families.  Many, many families.  Enough that it caused an elevated heart rate while the possibility that we would not get her terrified us.  We wrote our names, listed Molly, Gunni, and Madison, and added a note that we wanted not one of these dogs, but all three.  We said goodbye to Molly and Gunni and told them we would see them soon – they were so calm and sweet and we couldn’t wait for them to be ours.  Madison was in her crate, ready to leave, and we went over to give her a kiss, hoping this would not be the last time we saw her.

On our way home, we talked about how great Madison was and how much we wanted her.  We knew the chances were slim – we had already committed to adopting two dogs and so many other families wanted Madison, too.  I wrote the most shameless email of my life to Madison’s foster mom within 10 minutes of arriving home.  Essentially I begged for her to select us.  I listed every positive thing I could think of that might convince her we were the right family for Madison.  I rambled on about what a great life Madison would have with us and about how much we would love her and how our family would be incomplete without her.  I am normally a very reserved person, but there was no holding back in this email.  We wanted her so badly.  I hit the send button and spent the next few hours thinking of more things I could have written and really did consider crafting a second email.  When I went back to the computer, though, a reply was waiting for us.  Feeling excited and terrified, I opened it and found a lovely response about how my email really touched her and that she knew we would be perfect for Madison and that she had selected us to adopt her.  To say I freaked out is an understatement.  I went racing up the stairs, yelling to C, “We got her! We got her!” in possibly the loudest voice I have ever used.

Fast forward two weeks, since we had been out of town for a few days and the school year was starting, and it was finally time to get them.  On a Friday night, we drove about 45 minutes to get Madison from her foster home – and in a beautiful coincidence, this same lady was also fostering the dog my mom was adopting, so my mom was picking her up at the same time.  We signed the paperwork and got our two little dogs and we could not have been more thrilled.  Madison was 4 and “Summer” – renamed on the spot as Ginny – was 1; we brought Madison – now called Maddy” – home to meet Chelsea and my mom took Ginny home to meet Carmen.

The next morning, we met the other foster mom to get Molly and Gunni, and suddenly we had four dogs in our house!  Things generally went well, although Chelsea seemed highly insulted by these strangers in her house.  It took her a while to warm up to them; she simply ignored them for the first week or so.

At my mom’s house, it was a different story.  Carmen was none too impressed with having a new dog in her house and made it pretty well known that she was not happy.  She knew Muggsi had been the alpha dog, but now that Muggsi was gone, she had moved up in the ranks and was not ready to share my mom’s attention or affection with another dog.  A second issue was that Ginny is a barker, and my mom lives in a condo.  Ginny barks at anything and everything!  She really had us fooled at the meet-and-greet because she didn’t make a peep the entire time my mom was holding her!  So between Carmen’s incessant growling and Ginny’s incessant barking, we knew something had to give.  And this is how Ginny came to be our fifth dog.  It worked out rather well, because we think Maddy was a little bored living with three older ladies who preferred sleep to all other activities, and having a loud, lively puppy in the house seemed to make Maddy extremely happy.  Unfortunately, Maddy had been used as a breeder dog at a puppy mill before she was rescued by DRNA, but the one good thing to result from that is her very maternal nature.  Having Ginny to look after was perfect for her, and she has taken to caring for Gunni as Gunni has grown older and more feeble.

So that is the story of how we came to have five dogs.  The next installment will include the story of Molly.  Until then…

Happy Tails to you!

Our Dachshunds - Part 1

Why Dachshunds?

In order to explain why we love Dachshunds as much as we do, I have to go back to Muggsi, who was our family’s first dog.  She was a black-and-tan miniature Dachshund.  She joined our family in 1995 and is solely responsible for our love our Dachshunds because she was such an incredible dog.  Due to immigration issues, I had to relocate to Pennsylvania and move back in with my parents and brothers after only eight months of marriage, while C had to stay in Canada and wait for all of our paperwork to be processed.  As you might imagine, I missed C terribly, having moved to a town where I knew no one. My parents worked all day and my brothers were in school all day, and so Muggsi’s companionship was priceless.  She was only five months old when I moved there, and although my parents wanted her to sleep in her own little dog bed in the laundry room, I snuck her into bed with me every night and returned her to her bed each morning before anyone else was up.  This went on for almost a year before I confessed, and by then, everyone in the house wanted Muggsi to sleep in their bed because we had all grown so attached to her.  She lived to the ripe old age of 14 and her death was a very difficult one for all of us because she was our first dog and had transformed us into a family of dog people.

Holly, another black-and-tan miniature Dachshund, joined our family in 1997.  Holly was very special because she was unfailingly kind.  Dachshunds have a bit of a reputation for being snappy, but Holly was the exception. Dachshunds are prone to back issues, and in 2000, when she was barely three, she ruptured a disk in her back.  This required extensive surgery, and as a result of the injury, she was paralyzed and completely lost the use of her back legs.  While this created some challenges for her, her very sweet disposition remained and she spent her time pulling herself around like an adorable seal.  We got her a cart (canine wheelchair), which she would use outside, but she wanted nothing to do with it when she was in the house.  She did not let the paralysis dampen her spirit or determination and although we tried all sorts of physical therapy for her, she never did regain the use of her hind legs.  Her tail, though, was another matter.  She wagged her tail nonstop before her injury, and it took some time, but a few months after her surgery, she started to wag her tail again.  Our family likes to say that she was such a happy dog that even paralysis couldn’t stop her from showing the world how joyful she was.

In 1999, my mom and I had traveled to Delaware to visit my brothers for the weekend (they attended boarding school) and we were at the mall.  This is the part I am ashamed to admit – we went into a pet store.  Knowing what I know now, I would never, ever, ever purchase a pet from a pet store.  We had also purchased both Muggsi and Holly from pet stores and I never understood puppy mills and the atrocities that result from them.  As the saying goes, when you know better, you do better, and we have chosen to adopt all of our subsequent dogs from shelters and rescue organizations.

That being said, the consequence of the pet store visit was that I brought my Chelsea home from Delaware that weekend.  She weighed 3.25 pounds and was just about the cutest creature I had ever seen.  Later that year, C got a job visa and moved to Chicago, with Chelsea and I following right behind him.  We ended up living apart for 4.5 out of our first 5 years of marriage, which is an incredible realization when I look back on that time.  While Chelsea had loved being with Muggsi and Holly for about ten months, she adjusted to life as an only dog very easily (read:  she was spoiled and absolutely enjoyed every minute of it).

In April 2004, my mom adopted an older black-and-tan miniature Dachshund who had medical issues from Dachshund Rescue of North America, named Murphy.  So for a few months, she had three dogs, which seemed like lot at the time!

However, Holly very unexpectedly passed away in June of that year – a blow to all of us that was extremely difficult to deal with.  She was only six-and-a-half, and while one is never ready for their beloved dog to leave them, this completely blindsided us.  Exactly one week prior to her death, my mom had been visiting and brought Holly to my school so my students could meet her.  She was so sweet with my students, and my last memory of her is watching my mom lead her to the car, Holly rolling alongside her with her tail wagging madly.  It is a very happy thought.

Murphy had a crooked hind leg that the vet said was the result of a broken leg that was never reset properly.  Apparently this is common practice at puppy mills so that the breeder dogs cannot escape.  Disgusting.  She had a difficult time trusting people, which is perfectly understandable, given her terrible life experiences, and she did not like being picked up by anyone but my mom.  When C and I watched her, we carried her around the house wrapped in a blanket inside of a laundry basket so she couldn’t nip at us.  Quite comical.  Overall, she was a delightful little dog despite her difficult medical issues and although she was only part of our family for 19 months, our hearts broke when she passed away.  We hope the love she was showered with for those 19 months helped to erase some of the horror she experienced all those years before she joined our family.

A month after Murphy passed away, my mom adopted a Doxador – a Dachshund-Labrador mix (don’t ask…we have no idea how that happened, either!).  Her name is Carmen, and she was rescued from a very abusive home.  She is fearful of almost everything, but has been a wonderful addition to our family.  We think she is about twelve years old now, and gets along with all of my dogs pretty well, which is good, because all six of them are often together when either my mom or C and I are traveling.

So at this point in the story, C and I still only have Chelsea, but that is about to change.  The next installment will chronicle those events!

Happy Tails to you!

Another Close Call...

It is so sad to watch your pets grow old.

We have had a rough few days.  We went out Saturday night to visit friends at about 5:00, and at about 10:00, I received a frantic phone call from my brother G who was watching the dogs for us.  The howling and crying on the other end of the line were some of the most heartbreaking sounds I’ve ever heard.  Although Gunni can be a very vocal dog (she is SO talkative that it is noted in her chart at the vet so that anyone unfamiliar with her does not assume she is in pain when we are there!), I knew immediately that this was different.  You may recall that she had a seizure back in October that absolutely scared us to death, and we’ve been taking her for check-ups often because we know we are living on borrowed time with her and we don’t want her to suffer.  It was happening again.  She was drooling and she kept falling over as she tried to walk, so G just scooped her up and held her.  We told G that we would leave immediately and would be home as quickly as we could.  He called me back within five minutes and told me that he wasn’t waiting for us to get home, and that he would take Gunni straight to the vet and that we could meet him there.  This worked out rather well because the vet is about halfway between home and where we were.  He also called my mom to let her know what was going on and she jumped in her car and met us at the vet as well.

I cried all the way there.  I was scared for Gunni, scared for the other dogs, who apparently completely freaked out when this happened, and heartbroken for us because I was sure we were going to lose her.  When we got to the vet, C took Gunni and he and my mom ran to the door.  I stood in the parking lot for a moment and clung to my brother, sobbing into his shoulder.  For those of you who don’t know him, he is truly an amazing human being and I am so very grateful that he was with Gunni when it happened.  Once inside, they immediately took her to the back because she was in terrible shape.  We sat in the waiting room and given that it was 11:00 on a Saturday night, everyone who was there was dealing with an emergency situation.  We watched not one, not two, but three families leave with tear-stained faces and empty blankets in their arms.  I thought for sure we were next.

We waited for what seemed like forever because it took some time for her to stabilize.  The vet who was on-call was just wonderful, and spoke to us with kindness and compassion as he outlined what he believed had happened.  He handled the delicate topic of possible euthanasia with tact and empathy, but since Gunni had settled down, he recommended leaving her overnight for observation and bloodwork, and told us that our second favorite vet, Dr. V., would actually be in on Sunday and could take a look at Gunni.  He took us into the back where she was in a cage and allowed us to hold her and love her, during which time I begged her not to die overnight.  It never ceases to amaze me what comes out of my mouth during times of despair.  We put her on the blanket G had brought her in, and told her we would see her tomorrow.  When we left there, I was honestly not sure I would see her alive again.

Upon arriving home, four little faces were looking at us expectantly.  If they could speak, I have no doubt they would have been asking where Gunni was.  The look of confusion in their eyes was so sad.  I took turns holding them and all they did was sniff my shirt over and over and over because I had held her.  When we finally went upstairs around 2 am, the bed felt pretty empty with one less dog in it. 

The next morning, Gunni’s bloodwork came back and everything was great – especially since she is almost 16.  That did not make us feel any better, however, because it just about rules out a physical issue and leaves only a neurological issue to deal with.  Dr. V. called to let us know her thoughts and that she had examined Gunni, who was comfortable and not in pain, and wagging her tail – always a good sign.  She planned to keep an eye on her for the day and told us we could pick Gunni up at 4:00.  I had been texting my brother Jon since the night before and he offered repeatedly to come over to help in anyway he could and to just see Gunni, but C told him that Gunni was not going anywhere!  It is funny how when it comes to the dogs, C and I do a complete role reversal – he becomes the optimist and I become the pessimist.  I think it’s because I am so afraid to lose them and I expect the worst, while he refuses to consider the worst and assures me that things will be all right.

I had a tough decision to make about a secret I’d been keeping from C.  This coming Friday is his birthday, and I had planned a surprise trip to WDW that I was going to spring on him Thursday night.  I didn’t know what to do about the trip:  Should I just cancel everything and forget about it?  Should I go ahead with my surprise as planned?  What if something happened to Gunni?  Would we still want to go?  What if something happened to her while we were gone and I hadn’t included C in the decision?  I thought I about how I would feel if the tables were turned, and decided I would rather have the surprise revealed a few days early but be able to make the decision about the trip together.  So yesterday afternoon, I let him read the poem I written to reveal the surprise, and was thrilled that he truly had no idea of what I had planned because he can read me like a book and I am terrible at trying to keep a secret from him.  We talked about it at length, and have decided to go and celebrate his birthday.  My mom will be watching the dogs for us and G volunteered to help out, too.  Have I mentioned how much I love my family?

So we brought our beloved little Gunni home yesterday and she has been out of my sight for no stretch more than 60 seconds since that time.  She has slept a lot.  A lot.  Almost nonstop.  We knew she would be exhausted from the ordeal, but I keep putting my hand on her to make sure she is breathing because she is so still and quiet.  As I look down at her beautiful white face, I am reminded how lucky I am to have a life so filled with love.  We got a reprieve in October with her first seizure, and somehow we have been fortunate once again.  I am not sure how long this reprieve will be, and if the time comes when she is in pain, we will honor her and make the decision to set her free from that pain.  Right now, though, as I type this and she is curled up on the couch with Ginny and Chelsea on either side of her like bookends, keeping her warm, I cannot and do not want to imagine our life without her.

Happy Tails to you...

WDW Spring Break Trip

I’ve been asked about our recent trip to WDW, so I thought I’d share our adventures for those who might be interested in reading them.  Given that we were there for a week, I could literally write pages, but I will simply highlight our favorite moments.

We left our house at 1:15 am on Saturday.  Anyone in our area can appreciate the insanity that is I-95 South, and we will do just about whatever we can to avoid driving on it.  C drove most of the way, as I am prone to extremely long naps in the passenger seat!

We arrived around 3 pm on Saturday and checked into the Art of Animation resort, which opened last year.  We’ve stayed at every WDW resort hotel, and with Art of Animation being new, we needed to check it off our list.  Mission accomplished!  The theme of our room was “The Little Mermaid”…loved it!

The resort's logo

The resort's check-in area...very rainbow-y...loved it!

On Sunday, we went to Magic Kingdom around 8 pm, just in time for the castle show and for “Wishes.”  Even though it was a busy time of the year, MK was open to resort guests until 3 am.  Typically the park really thins out after the fireworks show, and this was no exception.  Once the park cleared out a bit, we watched the Main Street Electrical Parade from what we like to think of as our own personal seats (although surely hundreds of others are under the same delusion!) which are two rocking chairs on a front porch at the exit of The Hall of Presidents.  The spot is so perfect and tucked away from the hustle and bustle of everything else!  We love it!  We spent the remainder of our time visiting many of our favorite attractions, and those in the know will appreciate how empty the park was for our final few hours that night when I reveal that in addition to other rides, we went on Peter Pan’s Flight twice, with no wait, rode the Mad Tea Party tea cups with only a handful of other people, and had the entire Prince Charming Regal Carrousel to ourselves.  We wandered over to the new Fantasyland area and enjoyed some time in Gaston’s Tavern, in which the instrumental version of the soundtrack from “Beauty and the Beast” is played.  I was “entertaining” C by singing along to several songs (you know I know all of the lyrics!) before I realized that the people at the next table were listening to me and smiling at my lunacy.  Embarrassing!  We ended the night at 3 am walking from Cinderella Castle down Main Street, USA to “Married Life” from “Up” serenading us.  Perfection.

There are no words.

We spent other days in the parks as well – including Friday, when we thought we would do something we’ve never done before:  all of the parks in one day.  We went to MK for the rope drop and spent some time there, then we went to Disney’s Hollywood Studios, Animal Kingdom, Typhoon Lagoon, and Epcot for a few hours each.  Our day concluded back at MK until midnight.  A long day, but we really enjoyed finding all of the special topiaries on display for the Epcot Flower and Garden Festival!

Cinderella and Prince Charming

We spent Tuesday night at our favorite non-park location at WDW:  Jellyrolls.  It is a dueling piano bar with the most amazingly talented piano players I have ever seen.  They will play just about anything the audience requests, from any genre or any decade (Queen, Coldplay, The Beatles, REM, Guns N Roses, Taylor Swift, Billy Joel, Duran Duran, Backstreet Boys, Wham, Katy Perry, Elton John, U2…the list goes on and on).  My favorite guy even played an impromptu medley of songs from “Mary Poppins” because someone jokingly requested it!  One time someone requested “Enter Sandman” by Metallica and one of the pianists learned it backstage and performed it an hour later!  They are incredible.  A trip to WDW is not complete for us if we don’t spend one night there. With it being a Tuesday night, it was relatively quiet, and the pianists were able to interact even more than usual with those of us in the audience.  I again put my “singing ability” to good use and more than once received a loud “Thank you, Virginia!” from the stage.  So fun!

Food is another thing to be enjoyed at WDW.  In addition to our staples (beignets from Port Orleans French Quarter, popcorn from Main Street, Dole Whips, Nutella waffles, Mickey ice cream bars), we discovered a new treat that we cannot believe we didn’t know about before:  the carrot cake cookie.  It is actually two large, cake-like cookies with a layer of cream cheese frosting in between.  Indescribably delicious.  Once we discovered them on Monday, we went back to The Writer’s Stop at DHS three additional times just to get these cookies.  No joke!  That is how insanely great they are!

The carrot cake cookie...this photo does not do it justice!

We also ate at a few restaurants that are worth noting:  Tony’s Town Square Restaurant in MK (awesome minestrone!), Kona Café at the Polynesian (Tonga Toast!), Whispering Canyon Café at Wilderness Lodge (banana bread french toast!), and Via Napoli in Italy at Epcot (fantastic margherita pizza!).  I highly recommend them all!  Our favorite was Be Our Guest...in a word, unbelievable.

Stunning.

A final confession is that I wore purple Mickey ears the whole week.  It's hard to tell in this photo, but they had feathers and a purple crown on them!  Need I say more?

Happiest people on earth at the happiest place on earth!

Sadly, the week came to an end and on Saturday we headed north again. Although we had missed our lovely dogs so much while we were gone (a HUGE thank you to my mom for being the greatest dog grandmother on the planet!), we were still sad – as always! – to leave.  A reassuring thought was that we will be back soon!

Happy Tails to you!