Back in January, after a near-miss dachshund adoption, I promised that I’d write more about how I got partial custody of Suzie, a sassy, red dachshund. Here’s the story.
I first met Suzie at her owner’s graduation party. She belongs to Sarah, my son’s girlfriend. Suzie is as cute as is legally allowed. She was very confident, and as I mentioned before, very cute.
When Sarah started going to WSU in Pullman, the trouble with Suzie began. Sarah’s mom told me that she was talking to Sarah about giving Suzie away because she was working long hours, and Suzie was spending that time locked up in the laundry room, depressed and lonely.
Later that night, I talked to Sarah about it. Understandably upset, she said that her grandmother already had a family in mind.
She told me about Suzie’s history, and how she had gotten Suzie. At the ripe old age of one and a half, Suzie had already had four owners. She’d been removed from an abusive home, and adopted by an elderly lady. When the lady had to move into a nursing home, she gave Suzie to a family that had another dachshund. Suzie did not play well with the other doxie, so they wanted to get rid of her. One of Sarah’s friends told her about Suzie, and Sarah, who’d always wanted a dachshund convinced her mother to let her have Suzie. Now, Suzie was almost three and on the verge of be given to a fifth family.
The Suzie situation weighed heavily on me that night. I awoke the next day, with a brilliant idea. Since I worked out every weekday at a gym five minutes from Sarah’s house, I could just pop over afterwards and take Suzie for a walk.
She convinced her mom that I’d decided this of my own free will. We worked out the details of how I’d get into the laundry room. Sarah and Johnny left for Pullman. John shook his head at my “meddling.”
The following Monday, I went to Zumba. One hour of Zumba burns 600-800 calories, so whenever I’m done, I’m hungry enough to eat my own hand. I decided I’d pick up lunch at McDonald’s, and eat it at Sarah’s house while keeping Suzie company, then take her for a walk. Starving, I ordered a Big Mac, then drove over to visit Suzie.
I punched the code into the garage door keypad to get in, then opened the laundry room door, and greeted Suzie. She ignored me, and bolted out onto the front lawn. Then she looked up at me as an afterthought, and started barking furiously, charging at me as if she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to guard the house. I tried to get her back into the house, but she wasn’t going for it. When I reached down to grab her collar, she tried to bite me. I was quick enough to move my hand out of the way just in time. This wasn’t exactly going as planned.
At this point, a concerned neighbor came out. I explained over Suzie’s nonstop barking, that I was Sarah’s boyfriend’s mother, “You know, the dark-haired guy with the loud, green Honda? That’s my son.” They were away at college. I’d come to walk Suzie. It was such a ludicrous story, she believed me. Then she went back into her house, leaving me to figure out how to get Suzie back into hers.
Calling Suzie into the garage didn’t work, and I wasn’t about to try grabbing her collar again. In a light-bulb moment, I tore off a piece of my Big Mac and threw it into the garage. When she went for it, I hit the button and closed the garage door. One more strategically thrown chunk of Big Mac, and she was back in the laundry room.
The next day, I was not looking forward to visiting her, but if I couldn’t get her to cooperate, her days were numbered. I armed myself with doggie treats, and another Big Mac. I also made sure I closed the garage door before I opened the laundry room door.
This time Suzie remembered me. She let me put her leash on her, and we actually had a very nice walk through the neighborhood. She stayed right with me, and was very well-mannered.
As the weeks went by, she tolerated me. I bought her a KONG and hid treats in it to give her something to do until Gerri got home from work. One time I opened the laundry room door, and thought she was gone, but she had burrowed totally under her blanket. Another one of her quirks was that she hated the rain. If it was raining, she’d balk, then insist on staying under the eaves of the house and skip the walk. In time, she started greeting me with a wagging tail and friendly face. One day after I left, I heard her howling. That was when I knew she’d finally accepted me into her doggy heart.
Eventually, we figured out it would just be easier if Suzie just stayed at our house while Sarah was at school. Two years later, she has adjusted amazingly well to living in two homes, this one with another dog and two cats. As long as she has her KONG, she’s a happy hot dog. She wakes up each morning and does what we call “the happy dance” around our feet. She spends her days perched on the couch at the front window watching the world go by and “commenting” loudly. She loves sunning herself out on the deck. John takes her and T-Bone out for daily walks through the woods. She is snuggled up next to me in the recliner as I write this, a little dog with a big dog personality, the cutest, vicious little thing ever!
Laura Keolanui Stark has been cured of her case of “wiener dog envy.” You can reach her at stark.laura.k@gmail.com.
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