Category: dachshund

Old Sam Goes Home, Today

Picture of Sam, our dachshund
Old Sam

This is one of those articles that is tough to write. Our miniature dachshund, Sam, is almost sixteen years old, and just can’t get it together, anymore. It is time for Sam to go home. His black long-haired dachshund buddy, Dash, died almost three years ago. Dash was fifteen years old, and had epilepsy.

Although the dogs were not blood related, we always thought of the younger Sam as Dash’s dog. Sam was our daughter’s pet, and there seems to be a natural law that when your kids get married, they do not take their pets with them. At that time, we didn’t want to separate Dash and Sam.

We remember the good times. There was a time when Sam was young, healthy, and could jump. Jumping is something most dachshunds are not very good at because or their relatively short legs. Their legs are so short, their bellies almost drag the ground, along with other appendages. Sam never liked to go outdoors when the grass was wet and cold.

When Sam was a puppy, he adopted my wife as his favorite, even though he belonged to our daughter. Sam would watch my wife when she walked into the den, and wait until she was in the act of sitting down. Uncannily, the little dog could launch himself at just the right time to land in my wife’s lap. He would jump while she was still in the motion of setting down.

Plus, Sam rarely ever growled at anyone. My daughter found a way to elicit a gruff growl by pushing his rear end with her cold feet. Sam was really sensitive about his butt. He never bit anyone, to my knowledge, except me. That happened a few months ago, and he was not doing well, at all.

Poor Sam has gotten to the point that he cannot hike his leg. He also doesn’t bother with waiting to do his bathroom duties outside, either.

He has cataracts and is virtually blind, and he bumps into things in and outside of the house. His sense of smell has disappeared, too. He can’t even smell a piece of cheese three inches from his nose. His joints are stiff, and he seems to be in pain.

A lot of what I say sounds like a way to relieve my guilt at what I am about to do. Undoubtedly, that’s correct.

Today Sam will join his buddy, Dash.

Goodbye, Sam.

Aliens In My House

picture of rocky the flying squirrel
Attic Alien

Something was going on. For the last couple of nights, we have been awakened by sounds in our house. The problem is that by the time I am awake, the noise stops. It is almost as if someone is sneaking up the stairs to do us a whacking, Soprano style.

Yeah, I know that’s paranoid, but you get that way in a two story house after all the kids have moved out. But, wait! They left their dog. Certainly our trusty, faithful hound would make lots of noise and defend us if someone broke into our house.

Or maybe not. The little wiener dog is going on sixteen years old, and he not only cannot hike his leg, anymore, but he can’t hear it thunder. Plus, when he knows we are gone, he goes nuts because he is afraid to stay by himself. He thinks our job is to protect him, not the other way around.

So much for our guard dog. What can we do to keep ourselves safe? Did some alien vessel follow me as I returned from the other side of the Milky Way the other night? Maybe I didn’t shake them during the chase, after all. I may have to call out the Fleet Guard to help me.

Today as I was preparing for my nocturnal battle, I was working at my computer trying to figure out the best way to fight life forms that are other than carbon based. That is when I heard the noise, again. This time, I was not asleep and didn’t wonder if I was dreaming.

Scratch, thump, bump. rattle, rattle, rattle. It was very disturbing until I realized that my problems were terrestrial rather than space based.

I have critters in my attic!

I hear scratching, scraping, rattling, screeching, and yowling. There is little doubt that a family of squirrels have set up housekeeping in my attic. Plus, I hear some peep-peep-peeping, like there are little ones up there, too.

This problem may be worse than space aliens inhabiting the upper reaches of my house. At least, I don’t have to worry about droppings, disease, and fleas from my space buddies.

So, I called one of those Rid-A-Critter services, and expect a callback any second, now.

Folks, this is serious!

Christmas Eve Gift?

Today is Christmas Eve, and as ordained by all, was a good day to sleep in. We did, and we slept really late having stayed up after midnight watching some movie we can’t even remember this morning. A new Morning After pill for memory would be much appreciated by citizens above a certain age.

After I finally got out of the bed, I decided the first order of things was a shower, as I did not hear Sam, or fifteen year old dachshund, barking. Now, Sam doesn’t bark to go outside. No, siree! Not our Sam. Our four legged critter only barks AFTER he has done his dirty deed and wants me to clean up his mess. After all, he does have his standards.

This morning I figured Sam’s bladder was either not over-full, or he was dead because I had not heard him barking. Much to my shame, I was hoping that when I went downstairs I would find the old guy in terminal slumber on his bed pillow. What a dreadful way to think about the family pet.

Sam has no idea how close he has come to meeting his Maker, on several occasions. Whenever I clean up after him, or have to pay his veterinary bills, I do some mental scheming to figure out how to ease him into the next life, but I am always afraid that the Pet CIS people will penetrate any pet crime and punish the perpetrator, me. I don’t want to spend the next five years in a place where bad things can happen to a person.

Enough of the day-dreaming. Sam was alive this morning, having broken through the pet gate and defiled the den with his less than hygienic habits. This morning, Sam came really close to making the trip to his Sweet By And By.

Being a beneficent person, I gave old Sam a reprieve on his sentence. Today is Christmas Eve, and I have decided to give him another chance.

Well, enough bad and sad stuff. I gotta go and finish my Christmas shopping. One thing I will get is a new pillow for Sam’s bed. The old guy needs it.