Tuesday, February 17, 2009
My little dog is sick. This dog came into my life through no fault of my own. My daughter bought this adorable little dachshund, just a handful of puppy. She decided she had made a mistake--she hated the dog--and threatened to drop him off at the pound. So, of course, being an animal lover I took him. Didn't want to; you see, I have always had real dogs. You know, dogs of substance, like St. Bernards. I had a Collie and a Saint currently residing in our house at the time, along with a very conceited cat and wondered how this new member would fit in. Oscar asserted himself into our animal kingdom and immediately let it be known that he was indeed the alpha male. He remains the leader of our animals to this day. I should also say that I fell in love with this dog and he is my dog exclusively. He tolerates my husband and will play ball with him, but at the end of the day he will only sleep next to me. If he is sick, he wants me to hold him and comfort him. Today he has an ear ache--I think. He cries out if his ear is touched and isn't jumping on and off the sofa as he would normally do. He has a wife-dog, Emmy, and we are keeping our grandson's little dog, Wally for a time. The three usually have a grooming session together that involves some serious ear cleaning. Today he growled at Emmy to warn her off and snapped at Wally (Wally is still a puppy and not all that bright about some things). I am particularly worried because I don't have a vet at the time. Living in the middle of nowhere means you have to either drive some distance or be willing to use whatever may be available locally. I had used the local vet until last June when our old girl Louise (the Saint) had to be put down. It was a horrible experience. The vet on duty lacked any compassion whatsoever and I now refuse to take any of my animals back. I guess tomorrow will find us looking for a new vet with Oscar. In the mean time he will be right here in my lap...as he should be.