It's a dog's life

the serious business of being a dog…


Being a dog is a very serious business.

It’s a dog’s business to inspect, sniff AND sample all foods a human consumes.

It’s a dog’s business to always accompany the human to the bathroom.

It’s a dog’s business to occupy 2/3’ds of the human’s bed.

It’s a dog’s business to always travel in car with the human.

It’s a dog’s business to love and be loved.

Ah, the serious business of being a dog…

 

It's a dog's life

A house full of Sausages…


I have a house full of Sausages. Not the greasy, squishy, edible variety, but more precisely, the loveable, quirky Dachshund variety.

Having my home filled with four sausages was not something I’d ever planned: it just kind of happened, as most things do in life.

And it all started with Kiri, or Saus as she was affectionately called.

Saus was a beautiful mini-wire haired dachshund who came to live with me by chance 10 years ago.

After having had 3 litters (grrr) and still only 3 years old, she was apparently no longer of  any ‘use’, therefore she was in desperate need of a new home. Mum had heard about her from a friend, so Mum called me asking if I’d consider adopting her. On hearing her story, I was more than happy to go and meet her to see if we got along.

The meet and greet did go well and Saus entered my life and touched my heart like no other. Her spirit had been severely broken at some point in her life, however she came to trust me and my love for her, in doing so, we became one. sunset and dogs 033

There are no words to describe the depth of her beauty and my love. She was simply Saus, a beautiful, yet incredibly shy being who gave me permission to be the centre of her universe.

I am, and always will be humbled by her trust.

We shared 5 magical years together, years filled with so much love, so much laughter and so many discoveries of her quirky, sausage ways.

Her passion for cheese. Her need to burrow into her doggy sleeping bag and most of all, her great love of being in the car. She didn’t have to go anywhere, just getting in and being in the car was her pleasure.

It was the getting out and walking bit she didn’t fancy: and her hilarious antics surrounding getting in and being out of the car can be read about here.

But sadly, on one tragic summer morning, I lost my girl unexpectedly from complications of the heart.

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I was devastated. And there are truly no words to describe my grief. In losing her, I too was lost.

She had become my world and when she died, part of me died with her. I was inconsolable.

Then the day after my Saus died, I had a call from a rescue organisation asking if I’d be interested in re-homing a male, mini-wire.  My response was instant. No, I could not imagine taking on another right now.

Yet a good friend had other ideas.

Despite my inconsolable grief, my friend talked me into going to meet this little fellow. ‘Jen, you might need him as much as he needs you…’.

As I sat on the grass in a park where his current owners and I had agreed to meet, I watched Stanley (then known as Joey) jump out of the car and cautiously walk toward me.  With his little wiry head darting from side to side, his body language seemed to scream fear, clearly he was frightened of what lay ahead.

Standing momentarily beside the man who held his lead, he looked around before tentatively walking toward me, cautiously sniffing the area around where I sat.

I didn’t speak, I simply let him do his thing.  Then without warning, he climbed onto my lap and buried his head in my arms. I was completely taken aback, yet held him close, hoping my touch would lessen his fear.

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A little while later I placed him gently on the grass, stood up and walked toward the picnic table to retrieve a bottle of water.  Stanley followed and would not leave my side. At that moment I realised he had made his decision, I was his person.

So Stanley came to live with me, and just as my friend said, we needed each other. In his company, my grief over losing Saus slowly subsided and I believe his memory of a life less than perfect also faded.

Four years on, his loyalty has never waned.

However in the early days of him being with us, that loyalty also seemed to cause him to suffer from separation anxiety.  Family told me that when I left the house without him, he would wait by the window, forever watching for my return.

And it was this anxiousness that led to Oscar’s arrival.

At the time I was also still working for an international airline as cabin crew, which had me jetting off to various destinations for up to 4 days at a time. This was hard for Stanley (and me, I might add), so I decided a companion may help ease his separation anxiety.

Enter Oscar aka Bear.

Oscar came to us as a pup, full of life and love and the perfect companion for Stanley. In an instant Stanley was his protector and the two became firm friends.IMG_1479

Whilst I’m told Stanley still ‘waits’ for me, it is not as prolonged as it was before Oscar’s arrival.

Oscar is a standard wire-haired dachshund, so now as an adult dog, he is quite a bit bigger than Stanley and gloompfs along like a big ole bear.  And that’s how he came to acquire his nickname, Bear.

About two years after Oscar’s arrival I had another call from Devoted to Dachshund Rescue (D2DR) asking if I would foster a male black and tan smooth, whose family were going through a divorce and could not keep him.  At nine years old Simon had only known one family, however within minutes of him coming to us, it was if we were that family.  His owner dropped him off and he didn’t look back. Simon seemed to love being with his new brothers, so the decision to keep him was made and Simon became part of our family.

A year later I had another call. Would I foster again?  Yes, of course, however Eddie was different. Whatever had happened to him was beyond tragic. You really have to wonder what possesses someone to subject a defenceless, sentient being to such cruelty.

Eddie, as we chose to later name him had been found in an industrial waste bin wrapped in wire. Extremely emaciated and terrified, he was allegedly taken to a pound where he stayed for 6 weeks before D2DR was called. On getting the call they drove 3 hours to retrieve him, and then called me.

When I first saw him I melted. The fear is his beautiful amber eyes was absolute. Ribs and spine protruded through his rich, copper coloured coat and on closer inspection, he had a severe overbite.IMG_3925

I knew that in time, his physical issues could be mended,  yet his emotional trauma was another story and would obviously take time to heal. His fear of people was deep seeded, but interestingly, just as Stanley made me his person, it was my son Max that became Eddie’s.

Two years on, Eddie still has an intense fear of strangers and also being outside of his comfort zone: his home.  Going for walks is not his thing, nor is being anywhere that involves mixing with people other than his own.  He is content to be at home, with his family.

So now I have a house full of Sausages: and what a house it is…

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Simon,   Oscar,   Stanley,   & Eddie

 

 

life

Reconnecting…


Life takes us down different roads. In our travels we connect, disconnect and reconnect.

Reconnections can be precious moments that shine light and laughter upon those whose life’s paths have crossed.

Over a year has passed since Isobella & Eddie connected.

Yesterday they reconnected…

 

 

 

It's a dog's life, photography

Adventure…


I love dogs. They are always on an adventure of sorts: sniffing, hunting, playing, searching or simply being the beautiful beings that they are…

life

Weekly Photo Challenge: Split-second story…


On seeing this week’s photo challenge I thought of time spent driving through the French Alps with my son, Rob. After pulling over to take a few shots of the scenery, a little dog appeared. He didn’t bark, he didn’t protest our presence: he simply watched and waited.

On a train in Geneva…

It's a dog's life, photography

Oscar & Stanley…


As we travel through life, we find many who walk beside us and share our journey. Some stay a moment, some stay a lifetime. And in that lifetime, there are lessons.
Lessons of love, lessons of laughter and lessons of loyalty.
My journey with Oscar and Stanley is just that: a lesson in love, laughter and above all, loyalty.

It's a dog's life

I wish I could speak Dachshund…


I wish I could talk to animals, my animals in particular.

A quiet moment...
A quiet moment…

In doing so I would be able to explain to my beloved Oscar and Stanley that I will be going away for 12 months. But as I cannot, they will be left to wonder where ‘Mum’ is, which breaks my heart and as such, since accepting my teaching role on Penghu, I have shed many tears.

I shared my concerns with my dear friend Amy as 18 months ago, she embarked on a similar journey that took her away from her beloved Lola for 12 months. On her return Lola had not forgotten her, Lola did not turn her back, Lola just continued where she left off. Loving Amy. Her words as usual, were comforting.

My besties...
My besties…

I know they will be well cared for as my parents moved into my downstairs granny flat a few months ago and they love them to bits, and Oscar and Stanley are also devoted to my son Rob, who loves them equally in return. But they are also highly devoted to me and if they can, they will be at my side 24/7, just as they are now as I write this post.

Yes, I wish I could speak Dachshund…