Showing posts with label dog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dog. Show all posts

Friday, March 17, 2023

My St. Patrick's Day Dog

My first house dog would be 28-years-old today, March 17, 2023. She was a red, standard-sized dachshund from a show dog family raised by breeder Jacquie Girrens Schwab. Her life with me lasted 11 years and nine months. I named her Lexy. 

Like with many doxies, her back legs went out. It was a tough time for me until three months later when we decided to get another doggy. Sure, we had Pepper, my step-daughter’s toy rat terrier, but I missed Lexy and the dachshund personality.

Dan the Man with his two-toned eyes

So the day before what would have been Lexy's 12th birthday in 2008, 15 years ago now, we drove five hours one way to get a dog. A rescue dog. Not one that would enter burning buildings, sniff out drugs, or therapeutically fix a lonely person, although he did do that for me, but the kind that needed a home.

His paperwork said Daniel, and he was almost 4-years-old with a birthday of May 12, 2004. I renamed him Dan the Man. And a little man he was. What a precious creature. I’d found him on PetFinder.com. Had to send in a few references and the name of my vet, Mike Herndon. 

I love telling how I found this dog because that’s how I found my husband. Online. Picked him out too because of how he looked. I am that vane.

Dan the Man & Pepper in Dec. 2011
After Lexy’s passing, Chris had seen how sad I was without her. Read more about that here. Not even an early Christmas present of “Gilligan’s Island” DVDs cheered me up, so he agreed to get another dachshund. Thus my search began. We took Pepper with us when we traveled on that chilly spring break day on March 16 to make sure the two canines would get along.

Dan the Man looked just like his online picture, but nothing like my Lexy. His body was shorter and stockier. He enjoyed squeak toys and would sometimes bring them back to you. Most times, Lexy didn’t mess with such foolishness. She was all red; he was black with patches of red, cute ones on his little butt. His bulging eyes of different colors warmed my heart. 

in June 2015
But last May in 2022, the day after his 18th birthday, we put him down. It’s as though he knew I wanted him to reach that ripe age. When he awoke that day and tried to walk, sometimes his back legs  tucked under him. He slipped on the non-carpeted floors. His face seemed to droop at times. And he let my husband Chris do anything with him. Something he normally didn’t allow. I knew the time had come. 

A couple months prior, Dan the Man had been diagnosed with kidney issues by our vet Monica Moore at Sisters Veterinary (they took over Herndon’s after Mike’s passing). For food, he didn’t like his normal stuff, which I’d begun soaking, for many teeth had been pulled throughout the years. After two doses of the moist canned food, he refused to eat it. 

holding him the last time 
My husband said, “You cannot let him not eat! He’s hungry!” So we gave him whatever he seemed to like of people food. Chicken from Benny’s, Sugar Corn Crisp, toast. If he was really hungry, he’d eat that soaked old dog food of his. He never was a big water drinker compared to my first dachshund who I raised from little on, and who knows, maybe that contributed to his kidney issues. You cannot make a dog drink, or take eyes drops, or force a toothbrush in his mouth.

We put him down on Friday the 13, so fitting for such a sad time. Prior to his passing at the end of April, we’d gotten a mini-Australian Shepard, Chris’ breed of choice. I insisted we get her because I foolishly though having another dog around might bring Dan the Man some joy. No such luck. One look at Dixie and in the house he went. He was never mean to her. Just tolerated a wild 2-month-old puppy. 

So like Lexy, whose last few years were filled with jealousy of a husband and step-daughter, Dan the Man's last few weeks of life were not pleasurable. For this, I feel bad. But I will never feel bad about giving a dog a good life. And Dan got just that.

He loved the pavilion in the backyard. His little nose would constantly twitch taking in all the smells of the trees and flowers. He'd sit nearby as I graded papers, read, wrote, and spoke on the phone. As he aged, his walks were shortened to the railroad tracks and back. Sometimes he’d actually run! Ever seen an old wiener run? Hilarious. His tongue would hang-out to the side.

Dan was a stately fella though, rarely huffing and puffing. Lexy didn’t do that either. There’s something almost aristocratic about a wiener dog. It’s a juxtaposition of their silly-shaped body and their solemn, dignified face. Since he was all black, the heat would bother Dan, and I’d have to force him in the house some summer days.

In retrospect, I think Dan the Man lost his will to live after we put Pepper down. They didn’t really play together anymore (they used to chase each other in the backyard, prop on the couch like cats, and stare out the window) but often sat in the doggy basket side by side. He grew anxious and sniffed by the door until he stained it and the hardwood floor due to his dripping nose.

dogs who act like cats
If I’d make a trip to family in South Dakota, he’d go on a hunger strike. Chris bribed him with spaghetti sauce otherwise he would not eat. After Dan the Man’s passing, I realized that with Pepper gone, it was the first time in his life he didn’t have another dog around. That was traumatic for him, poor fella. Maybe he was remembering his pre-Harris days.

When we’d gotten him from Seven Bell’s Sanctuary in Cole Camp, Missouri, I learned the details of his life. He’d been a breeder’s dog and they sold out. Another breeder bought him. That breeder decided he was not needed, so that person’s vet got in contact with Judy from dog rescue. She had him only a few days until it was time for him to get neutered. He returned to her for a few days, and then he went into doggy foster care because Judy had an operation and couldn’t care for him for awhile.

Seems that within 30 days, this little doggy had been living with four, if not five, different people! What would a child be like if that was done? So yes, Dan the Man had his issues. So did Lexy, by the way -- read about those here.

He liked baths, which we were told he hated. He was scared of thunderstorms, but at first he wasn’t. Not sure what triggered that. We tried dryer sheets, meds (but you have to give them well in advance of a storm arriving), aromatic diffusers, and a Thundercoat (a 40-dollar dog tuxedo that wrapped him tight). He was quite the special needs dog.

on his 18th birthday
After his first morning here, Dan the Man was scared to death of Chris. He'd run outside dropping turds along the way if I wasn't around. After a few days of this, I thought Chris would make me return him. We called Judy and she encouraged Chris to get on Dan’s level. Yes, down on the floor. So he did. He’d give him treats, people food, whatever it took to get him to come closer. And it worked. Probably contributed to Dan the Man’s rotten teeth. But I'll never forget the love my husband showed in doing whatever it took, so I could keep my new doggy.

Chris gets Dan the Man to trust him
I was proud of the little fella, told stories about him, and put pictures of him in my punctuation and grammar lessons for school. Students during this time most likely heard me sing the Dan the Man song.

As the years passed, he lost his hearing – no more fear of storms! He had cataracts and a growth near his bum. I knew the end was near, and we’d been discussing the next dog. I was shocked when my husband said in mixed company one time, “No more dachshunds.” I was heartbroken. 

After a few days, I heard my dad’s voice telling me to get the type of dog that Chris wanted – after all he’d put up with Lexy’s jealousy and Dan the Man’s neediness. That breed was a mini-Aussie. So we start another house dog story with Dixie and her antics. I’m sure I’ll write posts about her too.

showing off in December of 2014

And even though today is Lexy’s birthday, I chose not to write about her because I’d never gone public with the details of Dan the Man’s passing the day after his birthday. It was due to Lexy and those before her -- Pooch, Frisky, Hitchcock Boy, and Jupiter – all capturing different parts of my heart that I’ll always want a doggy around. 

Don’t ever let the love you have for a pet stop you from getting another one. You are not replacing them. You are giving a living being a home. A lifetime of memories. A lifetime of love. Your heart has room.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

The Loss of a Pet


Our little black wiener dog honored his predecessor today. He napped on her grave under a tree that commemorates her. It was as if he knew this was the anniversary weekend of her death.
 
Dan the Man soaking up the 70 degree November sun in Kansas
Seven years ago, I put down my red dachshund named Lexy. She was eleven-years and nine-months old, a little younger than most of the kids I teach. Her back legs went out, something that happens to a lot of wiener dogs due to their elongated bodies and the strain on their spines.

I had raised her from the time she was a puppy. Trained her to ring bells to go out and potty. In a month, she had it down. Later that summer, my niece Jessica helped me train her to walk on a leash by enticing her with food.

Lexy, named after a South Dakota weather forecaster Lexy Hickok, arose at 5:50 am every day when I first got her back in June of 1995. I wanted to sleep in—it was summer. So one day, I said, "We're going back to bed," and I stuck her under the covers with me. That was the last time she slept in a cage. Then I got married, and she slept alone in a doggy bed.

Lexy and Dad nap ~ Summer 1995

One can imagine the pain of losing a house dog who is a constant companion. My dad said he understood when I told him I cried over Lexy’s death more than I did Mom's.

Shortly after my dog's passing, fellow dog lover Kaitlin Nance, a former student of mine, gave me the book, For Every Dog an Angel. For anyone who’s lost a dog, the words will not seem silly. I knew I wanted another dog; I just wanted to wait until summer time when I could give it my full attention.


Lexy ~ Tank, Kaitlin's dog ~ Pepper in July 2007

But I was. So lonely.
I missed Lexy. So much.

Guilt over all the changes during her last year of life did not help me. I tried to enjoy Pepper’s company, but it was not the same. He was not Lexy. I would walk Pepper at night and just bawl. I bought an iPod to drown out my thoughts.

Some suggested I should get a dog right away, others said I better wait, yet others said maybe I should not get another one—ever. After all, we had Pepper. In addition, I feared my new husband would not want another dachshund after the way Lexy behaved at times. But I wanted one. Another one. Another dachshund.

Lexy's second Christmas in 1996. She did not like that doggy coat.
My husband saw my sorrow, and three months later in March, he drove me five hours one way to get a dog from a rescue. It was a black and red dachshund I found on petfinder.com. His papers came with the name Daniel, but I wanted a fresh start for this little fella whose story I will tell some time in a future post, so I renamed him Dan the Man. He’s my little love who teaches me about patience and kindness in a way no human can. 

Dan the Man with me in May 2012

How does one move on after the loss of a pet?
It is tough. So tough.

Give yourself permission to mourn. How do you do this besides tears? Create a special memento of your pet. Mine is a box full of pictures and a journal full writings. In fact, that’s when I started writing consistently again. Lexy’s death in 2007 caused me to return to my default mode. In that journal, I wrote messages to her.


Lexy with me on the last day of her life.

Also, realize the time to grieve is different for everyone. You might choose to never get a pet again. Only you can make that decision, but do know that you are not being disloyal to the one you lost if you want another companion. My time ended up being three months because I could not stand it any longer.

One day at lunch, my friend and colleague Jill Weber said, “It helped my mom when she got another one." Her words gave me permission to make room in my heart for another dog.

And room I had.
Dan the Man’s spot is right beside Lexy’s, and today, his resting on her grave confirmed it.

saying good bye

How have you dealt with the pain of losing a beloved pet? What did you do to cherish the memories?