Thursday, April 17, 2008

Posetta Babydog

The absolutely worst thing about being away from England is when there is a crisis back home. When I woke very early this morning and saw that there was a voicemail from my mother I knew something waa wrong.

My sister & I are besotted with Posy, our miniature wire-haired dachshund. She looks like someone did a scribble on a page and added stumpy legs. She's contrary & naughty and came from Dachsie Rescue so she's always a little unpredictable. Lots of my friends referred to her as Kujo when she arrived, as she was a very damaged little dog and used to fly at strangers in a frankly terrifying manner, especially for something so little. (She'd already been re-homed as uncontrollable three times, & we were her absolute last chance.)

We've bombarded her with love & affection over the last three years and she is a different dog now, although we never allow her around children as we suspect she was tortured by toddlers in her formative years, given her reaction to small people. She also hates tall men in big shoes, which also says something. Altho I guess when you are only eight inches off the ground, 6'4" is going to look like a horrid mutant hairy giraffe.

Of course she is ridiculously spoilt, but we love her dearly for her energy, enthusiasm and balls. She thinks nothing of taking on rottweilers and retrievers on the Heath. Who, needless to say, just stand there looking bemused, as if to say, "You're a midget. Why would I be scared? Go and bark somewhere else".

She also sleeps upside down along my side with her head on my shoulder when I come back to London. I'm not mad keen on this but, frankly, it's easier to acquiesce as she'll spend the night jumping on my head if I turn her away. And God she looks adorable. (She doesn't usually sport a mohawk BTW, that was just for the photo.)

Anyway, many dachshunds have problems with their spines eventually, and Posydog is confined to her bed with a swollen disc for a month. My sister tells me she whimpered all night with pain, so the vet gave her codeine this morning and she is better now.

We have a pact that we will not be those indulgent dog owners who subject their animals to huge amounts of pain, surgery & distress just to assuage their grief at the idea of losing their companion, but goodness it's hard. H is home all day (she doesn't go out to work) with the babydog* and I can't imagine her life without her companion. The vet says that if Posy stayd in her bed for a month, then she should be fine, and back to her normal boisterous self. Here's hoping.

*She's known as the babydog because she is ridiculously tiny for a dachsie, especially when compared to Maudie the Jack Russell, and ASBO & Violet the gormless whippets, who live with my parents in the country.