Happy Birthday Furface!

Little Paulie Walnuts is 2 years old today. Paulie is a purebred, wirehair miniature dachshund. My husband purchased him from a breeder in California as a wedding gift to me. I wanted another dachshund - there was nothing wrong with the one I already had, mind you, doxies just lend themselves well to groups. I really wanted a wheaten female to name Saucy after my favorite childhood book, but there were none available. Instead, the breeder told my husband that she had a wild-boar male that was "very sweet". She was partially right.
Paulie came home to us the day before we returned from our honeymoon. Our in-laws picked him up and kept him the first night. They also were watching Indy (our black & tan doxie)...who was "not very nice" to the puppy. As you might be able to see from his picture above, he had some blonde fur, with a wirey overlay of black and red...true wild boar coat. He was very sweet...the breeder was right about that. But what we soon discovered after a botched first haircut was that he wasn't a true wild-boar-coated doxie.

The groomer was instructed to cut (by hand!) the knots out of his fur and then just give him a trim to remove the fuzzies. What we received back a few hours later was not our multi-colored boy - instead we received a VERY blonde boy with the softest, curliest blonde fur. He was a wheaten! Granted, he was shaved and had to look like a dork for about 3 months while his fur grew out...but it's still blonde today. He has some black fur on his ears and tail, so he's not a true wheaten...but close enough.
We were batting around a few names for him before he came home. When we finally got him home and saw the little silver wisps of fur above his ears, we knew that we had to name him after our favorite Sopranos character - and so Paulie Walnuts Gaultieri Funk was official.

He is very attached to Indigo and loves to play with Indy whenever he'll let him. Both older dogs tolerate him - but to my husband and I he is a sweet clown of a dog and we love him so much!

Indigo

Today was an emotionally taxing day. We picked Indigo up at the ER this morning, fully expecting to have to put her to sleep. Instead, Dr. Lehman told us that Indigo did really well, the diuretics worked and that she ate as much food as they could put in front of her this morning. That relieved all of us. We were able to get an appointment at 10am with a cardiologist at the vet school.

We took her from the ER directly to the Vet School at CSU. Because it is a teaching hospital, we sat there for about an hour and then went through the initial interview and workup twice. They wanted to do an ultrasound on her heart. They asked us to leave her there and they would call us when she was done. About 4 hours later, we got a call. When we went back, they had us pay the bill - which included 5 new medications: three diuretics, an ACE inhibitor and an inodilator. She also has to stay on her thyroid and blood pressure medication.

The doctor confirmed last night's diagnosis of late-stage, severe congestive heart failure. With these medications, the average life span is 6 months. We are going back on the 11th to follow up with this doctor and see if the medications are working. If they are, we will be watching to see when her kidneys start failing. When that happens, it's time to put her to sleep. If they are not working, euthanasia will have to happen sooner.

We had to change her prescription dog food too - she no longer needed a kidney protection diet, just low sodium. The doctor said to cut out the treats - so "no more hot dogs or cheese". Chris and I both laughed at that...she would be so happy if those were her treats instead of dry, yucky milkbones on rare occasions. We bought a (much cheaper) "senior diet" dog food at the local pet store chain. We also purchased some wet dog food to entice her to eat more. Tonight though, we celebrated by giving all three dogs a dinner of wet dog food mixed with their dry food. Everyone was happy - Indigo was back and it was definitely cause to celebrate!

A Somber Homecoming

My husband and I finally pulled into the driveway today from a great drive to and from Indiana. We took the doxies with us because 1) they are small and don't mind the drive and 2) they are just naughty enough to make people not want to watch them. Indigo, our black lab, stayed behind with our friends.

Indigo was returned to our house today around noon to await our return. We pulled up with the two boys and when we walked into the house, she mustered up enough energy to raise her head. This was not the usual circus we were used to. She had been feeling a little badly before we left. She had a bad cough that her vet attributed to kennel cough (I was suspicious of this diagnosis). Even after a round of antibiotics, the cough persisted. She usually has a voracious appetite. Lately though she can barely eat enough to sustain a little wiener dog.

So while we were unpacking and letting the boys get used to being home again Indigo laid around, not moving much. When she got up to follow me into the kitchen, I looked at her and felt sick to my stomach. The normally svelte, hourglass shaped dog looked like she swallowed a basketball. When we left for the trip, we commented on how skinny she had gotten. Now here she was, barely moving and looking like a hot air balloon made of black fur.

I immediately thought the worst and called my sister-in-law (she's a vet tech). She told me to take her in immediately. I called Indigo's vet's after hours answering service and received a call back in about 15 minutes. He also insisted we take her to the emergency room. So we packed her up quickly, leaving the wieners barking and anxious.

After about 3 hours, we received the news we dreaded: Indigo has congestive heart failure. Her chest and abdomen are filled with fluid because her enlarged heart cannot keep up. Her heart rate was around 190. We left her at the hospital tonight in hopes that a diuretic treatment will reduce the fluids and help her feel a little better. Her prognosis is poor though - we know that. The ER vet was talking months instead of years. We are lucky enough to be within 10 minutes of one of the best vet schools in the country. Our instructions are to contact a cardiologist at the vet school for an appointment first thing in the morning.

Separation Anxiety

My dog Indy, a black and tan miniature dachshund, is a bit of a drama queen. He doesn't always show it now that he is almost 5 years old. But when he was a puppy he would cry and whine whenever he even suspected I was leaving. When he realized that I was not coming back for a while, he would scratch at the door and scream (I'm not exaggerating) until I came home. To prevent costly tickets from the local Police Department, I would have to get ready for work in the morning, get Indy packed up and to his "daycare" location before I went to work.

For the past three years though he is relatively calm whenever I or my husband leave the house. It could be that he is older, or it could be that he has two siblings to keep him company. Paulie - our wirehaired miniature dachshund - has never been one to care when we leave, he just wants a treat. Indigo waits for us to leave so she can get up on the couch without having someone yell at her to get off. Indy will curl up on the couch in his favorite blanket, or on top of a pillow if it's too hot, and start snoozing long before I've shut the door.

This morning while I was getting ready for work, one of the dogs took advantage of the fact that I didn't shut the bathroom door all the way. I assume this was Paulie because he is obsessed with being in the bathroom with me at all times...nowhere else, just the bathroom. Once Paulie opened the bathroom door, Indy and Indigo followed.

Paulie started to unroll the toilet paper, while Indigo laid down on top of the vent. Indy knew I was in the bathroom, but because I was in the shower, he didn't see me. This must have set off an anxiety attack because while I was rinsing the conditioner out of my hair, the shower curtain moved quickly. Waiting to see some stranger with huge knife ready to carve me up, I instead was met with a shocked and now wet little black dog at my feet. He quickly realized his mistake and struggled to exit the shower. I helped him out and watched while he shook himself in disgust and walked back out of the bathroom.

After I was done getting dressed, I went out to the living room to check on him. He briefly looked up at me as if to say, "Let's just keep this little faux pas between the two of us. No one else has to know." He buried his head under his blanket again and went back to sleep.

I love that dog and sometimes, I don't know which one of us is more attached to the other.

A Mighty Wind

A tornado ripped through our little town of Windsor, Colorado in May.  I was at work when the tornado struck - it passed directly over our office.  I knew once the tennis ball sized hail started, that the weather meant business. As I tried to safely shut down our servers, I saw a huge truck outside our window being lifted into the air.  Servers be damned, I joined the others in the office bathroom for about 10 minutes. Once I thought it was safe enough to leave, I raced home praying the entire 3 blocks that my dogs were not swept away.

While others were not so lucky (see my pictures here), we only lost two trees and part of our fence.  Our roof needed to be replaced as well as other very, very minor casualties.  During cleanup, our dogs found the new jungle gym of trees to be a source of constant entertainment as well as a means of escape.

Indy would try to jump over the top....

...and Paulie would try to tunnel underneath.

Can you see his little furry butt in what is left of the tree?

Those two guys make me laugh most of the time. Every morning I spent chasing them down the street freshly out of the shower because they had found a way out of the mangled fence yet again, I can assure you I was NOT laughing.

Panda jerks.  CUTE panda jerks.