Today started out sad, but didn't end that way.
After I came back from meeting my sister in San Juan Capistrano, I was on my way to the store yesterday with Noodle in the car when I saw a dog walking down the sidewalk. I should say it was more like he was trying to walk, as he seemed to move with difficulty, and I could see even from
the car that this was a very old dog. He was by himself, a stray, apparently, so I pulled over quickly into the driveway of the apartments across the street from mine, and after extricating myself from the seat-belt the dog was still there.
It was a little dachshund who had a lot of gray hair, and a tumor the size of a golf ball on his chest. He shuffled rather than walked, and he was slung so low his stomach and chest almost touched the ground. My first thought was that someone had dumped him. I approached him to see if I could, and he let me. Then I had to see if he'd let me pick him up, and figure out how to do so without smashing or hurting the tumor. He let me do that, too, so I put him in the car.
Noodle was thrilled, too thrilled really, so I had to keep him away from the old boy. I continued on to the store, leaving the two of them alone in the car for a bit, then brought him home. With the closer look I was able to get there, I saw the poor boy also had cataracts on his eyes, and he had some kind of growth on both of his hind legs, as well as the tumor on his chest. He was very gray, not just on his chest or muzzle, but everywhere. I also saw that his teeth were black, probably rotten in his head, and he had the worst dog breath I have ever smelled on a dog. My crews teeth look marvelous compared to that dogs teeth. Someone had let him get in an awful state, and I inwardly cursed whoever it was.
He seemed very mild mannered. He seemed a little bit in shock, and bewildered, not seeming to know how he had gotten to where he was. The girls were curious, having to check him out, and Noodle tried to get him to play, and he nipped at Noodle a couple of times after Noodle didn't get the hint.
Our household was upset, and I couldn't do anything last night. He checked out the house, and followed me around, and finally curled up on the couch (after begging me to get him up there) in a little self-contained ball and went to sleep. He kept a wary eye on Noodle, though, and woke up when he saw or felt Noodle stir. He wouldn't eat anything, though I offered food several times. He did drink water. Oh, I forgot, when I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he begged for a bite with the other dogs, and I gave him a little piece of that.
Mostly he sat on the other end of the couch, but sometimes he crept closer to me, and then he would look up at me with his big cloudy eyes. He had such a pointy snout, different from my girls and boy. I spent a lot of time scratching behind his ears and on his chest.
When it was time for bed, I made up a little bed for him next to mine, but he made it clear he wanted to be on my bed. I know enough about dachshunds to know I shouldn't let him try to jump up on anything himself, they tend towards back injuries, so I lifted him up and tried to place him on the end of the bed. He promptly moved up to the top, near my pillow. I gave it up as a bad job and tried to sleep facing the opposite direction--only because of that terrible doggy breath.
I had already decided I had to take him to the shelter this morning. I thought I would contact a rescue organization, as well, to see if they could pick him up from the shelter. I took him to the shelter first thing this morning, and I felt terrible about it. It was awful. On the way there I told him I was going to call the rescues, so he wouldn't have to be at the shelter for long. I felt like I was abandoning him, but I kept pushing that thought out of my mind. I was also going to tell the shelter to contact me if they couldn't find him a home, but I was afraid that because of his condition and because he was so old they might think they should put him down immediately.
The intake person at the shelter seemed to dismiss the idea that he had been neglected--I'm not sure why she needed to do that. When she came out to take him from me, I couldn't even look at him to say goodbye because I knew I was getting teary eyed and I didn't want her to see. So I left crying.
It was weighing on my heart all day. I would think about him whenever I opened the refrigerator and saw the food I'd tried to offer him, and on and off. I did email a couple doxie rescues that were in Southern Cal, explaining the situation, his condition etc., and asking if they could help him. I sent his picture, too.
Then this afternoon when I checked my email I had several from one of the rescues, and they told me that they had a hold put on him, and that they would be picking him up if no one claimed him, and he wouldn't be put down! I was so relieved and so happy! It made my day--if I did nothing else good today, at least I did that. The poor little thing deserves much better from life than what he's gotten so far.
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