Wednesday, 12 October 2011


DOXIE TAILS 12 Charlie Brown aka CBWieneeDogg

Charlie Brown’s Weekend Adventure . . .
According to Mommy

Charlie Brown and his daddy were looking forward to pawesome BOYS ONLY weekend. As soon as Mommy left Friday morning to teach in Traverse City, Charlie and Daddy looked at each other, slightly confused looks flickering across their faces. Suddenly, they gave each other a big “high paws!” and got ready for a day at the office.
        Friday was a busy day, it was. After Daddy put on a suit and gave Charlie a quick brush, they were off to work. Daddy was in and out of meetings and all day but luckily, Charlie’s office (a.k.a. donut bed and blanky) is under Daddy’s desk. So Daddy could concentrate better, Charlie looked at the intern: Hey you, clear my appointments and pencil me in for a long, hard nap. After work, Daddy and Charlie headed over to Karl and Buster’s house. While Daddy and Karl played X-Box, Charlie and Buster talked pawlosophy and pawlitics over a bowl of Milk Bones. That night, Charlie got Mommy’s side of the bed all to himself. I could get used to this, Charlie thought to himself with a stretch and a yawn.

Saturday went much like Friday. Charlie and Daddy slept in, enjoyed a brisk walk, and it was off to the office again to do some accounting. Charlie LOVES accounting because he gets to snooze on Daddy’s lap the whole time, though every now and then he gives Daddy a nudge or a snuffle when he punches the numbers in wrong. After work, Daddy said, “We’re spending the night at Gramma and Grampa’s so we can keep an eye on the house while they’re out of town. That okay with you?” Charlie thought, Excellent idea, Pops, ‘speshully since I haven’t run the perimeter in a couple days. Gotta keep those wabbits in line. “But first,” said Daddy, “we gotta stop at our house.”

        On the way home, Daddy stopped at the gas station to fill up. While he went inside to pay for the gas, Charlie hopped over to the driver’s seat. Daddy never lets me drive, Charlie grumbled as he tried to look over the wheel. Hmmm, can’t reach, Charlie thought as he stretched a paw to the gas pedal. Suddenly, the scent of something delicious wafted in through the open door. Turbo-charged snoutage detecting salted pork product! Must investigate! Charlie slunk to the edge of the seat and delicately sniffed the air when he spied Daddy heading back to the car. Oops, not allowed in da driver’s seat! And into the backseat Charlie hopped, looking as innocent as could be. He’ll never know I twied to steal da car! Charlie chuckled to himself. Luckily, Daddy was on the phone and didn’t seem to notice the snout marks on the steering wheel.

A few minutes later Charlie and Daddy pulled up to the house. Daddy was still on the phone and left the door open as he ran in to pack up a few things. Dad, I gotta take a wee, thought Charlie, but Daddy had already disappeared into the house. Fine, I’ll take myself out, huffed Charlie, and he hopped out of the car to take care of business on the lawn. Hmmm, Houston, we have a problem, mused Charlie when he returned to the car. Dat looked shorter jumping down, noted Charlie as he looked up at the seat, then down woefully at his short, stubby legs. He sighed then went into the house to ask Daddy for a boost. OOOH, bully stick! thought Charlie as he spied Mommy’s latest present in the sun room. Nom nom nom went Charlie until he heard the click of the now-closed sun room door. What da what?! thought Charlie, as he watched Daddy walk away into the garage. Then he heard Daddy start the car. Um, Daddy? thought Charlie as he jumped on the couch in time to see Daddy pull away. Charlie began to let out a whine when he caught sight of the bully stick, then happily jumped off the couch to continue nomming.

        Charlie was just getting to a juicy part when suddenly he heard Daddy’s car again, screeching into the driveway. Then Daddy tearing back into the house frantically calling his name, “Charlie! Where are you Charlie!!” I’m in here, doofus, thought Charlie as waved a paw from   
    behind the French doors. With many impatient sighs, Charlie watched as Daddy darted from room to room, flipping on all the lights and calling, “Charlie! Charlie!” while looking under blankies and piles of laundry he was supposed to fold yesterday. OVER HERE! thought Charlie, smooshing his snout against the window. Suddenly, Daddy stopped and exclaimed, “The gas station!” and tore out of the house again. Seriously? Charlie thought, then he sighed as he ambled his way back to his bully stick, halfheartedly resuming his nomming.

A few hours later, Charlie sat whining at the French doors. Daddy, where are you? thought Charlie as he pressed a paw against the window. A few hours after that: I can’t believe Daddy went to Gramma and Grampa’s wiffout me. I wanna sleep in the BIG bed! pouted Charlie as he pawed reluctantly at his doggy cushion.

The next morning, Charlie woke to the sound of his name being called from outside. He hopped up on the couch to see the neighbors in the front yard. I’m right here and I am ready for breakfast, pweeze! thought Charlie, but they ignored him and wandered down the street still calling for him. Time to take matters into my own paws, thought Charlie, and he started pawing and nosing at the French door. What have we here? he thought as the door began to edge open bit by bit. Hmmm, just one more push . . . and suddenly Charlie was free! But where was Daddy? Whatever, man. He owes me BIG time, thought Charlie as he lapped eagerly at his water bowl. He ran a perimeter check around the house, fought a half-hearted battle with Squeaky Squirrel, and settled back in the sun room with his bully stick.
Charlie was in the middle of an afternoon snooze when he woke with a start to the sound of the garage door creaking open. Daddy? Momma? Intruder? wondered Charlie as he waited warily in the sun room. Then Mommy walked in, quietly crying and murmuring Charlie’s name. Hi Mommy! It’s about time! Gimme cookie! thought Charlie happily, sitting up on his cushion as Mommy stumbled into the bedroom with her luggage. When Charlie leapt up from the bed to do a body shake, he heard his mommy go suddenly still. He stilled, too, looking around and wondering what she was listening for. Then he heard her crying again, gently calling his name like her heart had broken. Dude, I’m coming. You guys kept me waiting all night so take a chill pill, thought Charlie as he gave himself a brisk shake. He heard Mommy quiet again, and then gently, “Charlie?” I’m right here, Momma, thought Charlie, and he moseyed out of the sun room just as Mommy tentatively crept out of the bedroom, her eyes wide with cautious hope. Mommy and Charlie stood at looked at each other, Charlie’s tail wagging happily as he thought, Hi Mommy! Why you cwyin’?

Suddenly, Mommy was on the floor, scooping Charlie up in her arms, snuggling and crying and laughing all at the same time. “Charlie, Charlie, is it you? Is it really you?” Yes, it’s me, Mom, it’s me! and Charlie kissed her face all over. Don’t be sad, I missed you muches! Why you cwyin’? Charlie thought as he licked her teary face clean. Mommy quickly
got on the phone to call Daddy over at Gramma and Grampa’s house. “He’s here! He’s here!” was all Charlie could make out because she was crying all over again.

Mommy and Charlie danced happily together in the living room, then she went into the kitchen to gave Charlie the biggest chuck of cheese he’d ever been allowed to have all to himself. He looked up at her, wide-eyed in disbelief. Really? All for me? “Yes, all for you,” said Mommy, and she cried happily as Charlie nommed and nommed and nommed on his yummy cheese. When Charlie finished, Mommy scooped him up into her arms again, then quick as a blink, they were in the car heading over to Gramma and Grampa’s for another happy, cheesy reunion with Daddy.

Charlie Brown’s Big Adventure . . . According to Daddy

Charlie Brown and his daddy were looking forward to pawesome BOYS ONLY weekend. As soon as Mommy left Friday morning to teach in Traverse City, Charlie and Daddy looked at each other,
gave each other a big “high paws!” and got ready for a day at the office.

Charlie supervised while Daddy led the day’s meetings. The next day, they started all over again. After work, Daddy said, “We’re spending the night at Gramma and Grampa’s so we can keep an eye on the house while they’re out of town. That okay with you?” Charlie thought, Excellent idea, Pops. “But first,” said Daddy, “we gotta stop at our house.”

On the way to the house, Daddy stopped at the gas station to fill up. Suddenly, the earth shook! Bright, green lights shone down from high in the sky! Suddenly, Daddy was being teleported into a spaceship and the aliens, weenie-friendly as they were, beamed Charlie safe and sound to the house. And the aliens did horrible things to Daddy, like implant a laundry-folding chip into his head. It was horrible!

“ . . . And then the aliens brought me back and now we’re         
all together and safe and Charlie is here and all that matters is that we’re together again and healthy and happy and by the way have I told you lately how
beautiful you are let’s go look at jewelry! “

Friday, 9 September 2011


                                 Meet Lloyd

              Hewwo fellow #DoxiePosse members , my name is Giuseppe and I would like to intwoduce yoo to my most favoritist toy in da world : Lloyd da Lamb.

              Mama brought Lloyd home one day fwom PetSmart to help mee soothe my teef because I was chewing evewything in da house and she got sick of it. When I first started to pway wif Lloyd I noticed he did not squeak but he snored instead so I thought “… gweat my new fwiend is Narcoleptic how boring..” Narcoleptic- yes! Boring – no!

Lloyd is my best fwiend and I never share him wif my #DoxiePosse brofur Gino. When my mama and dada go to work everyday ( to get money to buy me Milkbones ) me and Lloyd cause misschiff in da house and I have included some photos for you to see how silly Lloyd can be.

Lloyd’s Narcolepsy can really put a damper on playtime cuz he just falls asleep sumtimes in the middle of a game. But Lloyd also makes me feel betta when my teef is reddy to fall out or if I sad and I miss him when he needs to have baf in washing machine.

I happy yoo could all meet Lloyd today and I hopes you has a best fwiend as gweat as him too!
Me N Lloyd

Lloyds sneakers

Lloyds Golf clubs


Sunday, 21 August 2011


Dr. J and Billy

By Barbara @iambillysmom

I would like to tell you about Billy.

He is a BIG red standard dachshund, weighing in at a muscular 28 pounds. Billy just celebrated is ninth birthday.

He is blind in his right eye, has been since birth, but we just found out two years ago (his eye looks normal). He has massive paws, shorter ears than most and a tail that never stops wagging.

Billy joined our family at age 2 1/2 years. He started his life as a breeding/show dog. When he needed a forever home, it was our good fortune he came to us.

I could focus in on all of Billy's medical issues, of which there are many. In 2008 he ruptured a disc in his back and was paralyzed in his rear legs for 12 weeks. Thankfully he made a near 100% recovery.

In 2009, a serious paw infection almost took his life. After that we realized he had skin and food allergies, many idiosyncratic medication reactions and inflammatory bowel disease.

He has been through more tests than you can imagine. We have more questions than we have answers.

But, I would rather focus on this wonderful, highly spirited, good natured soul. Always tail wagging despite the pain and extreme itching. Always devoted, especially to me. Always there to offer comfort and love. Billy asks no questions but gives so much.

He can be quite a rascal at times. We have never been able to cure his obsession with chewing fabric: blankets, pillows, towels and his very favourite, polar fleece. Do not leave hats and gloves within reach unless you want him to shake them silly.

Billy has one very special gift. He has a unique ability to connect us with people. There are many instances of this I could cite but the following two are most meaningful.

His life threatening infection brought us to Dr. Jonathan Mitelman @vetstoronto. Not only have we found in Dr. Jonathan an exceptional veterinarian but we have found an amazing human being and a lifelong family friend.

Recently, Billy has opened the door to many connections with #doxieposse through twitter. It is so wonderful to share not only our love of dachshunds but many other interests as well.

Thank you Billy, you are one special dog.

Wednesday, 17 August 2011



So, I told you about my sweet Thurmie and how he’s changed my life so much. He is such a joy! We just love everything about him! And guess what, he’s high-maintenance, just like me! Finally, someone who understands that life-style! We both don’t like to get dirty (Thurmie won’t go outside if it’s rainy or snowy unless I’m standing over him with an umbrella or by the door with a towel!), and we both have to be clean after meals! I have my polar opposite with my boyfriend, but I have my mirror image with my Thurmie! Life is good!

Along comes the opportunity to get another puppy when Thurman is 6 months old. Our vet found a pregnant Chihuahua mix running around in a ditch, and she delivers 4 puppies; 3 girls and 1 boy. I ponder the idea, but start to think that there is no way I could possibly take any of the love I give to my Thurmie and give it to another puppy. I just love my Thurmie so much! However, my son works on me. He says he’ll take care of it. (My son is 16 at the time, in high school and heavy into sports.) My boyfriend and I explain to him how hard it is to take care of and train a puppy. He insists he’ll do it. So, we cave and bring home Thing 2. We will call Thing 2: Brian.

We introduce Thurmie to Brian, and it’s instant bonding. Tails are in complete jet propeller mode, and running and jumping ensues! It’s adorable! You can tell these two are going to be the best of buds. We set up the crate in my son’s room and little Brian goes in without any hesitation and settles down for the night. Thurmie is plum exhausted and plops in bed with me! In the middle of the night, Thurmie wakes me up and tells me that Brian is whining downstairs. I tell him that we have to let Cody (my son) take care of it because it’s his dog. Thurmie doesn’t know how to take that and goes and checks on little Brian. The whining stops, but when Thurmie leaves, it starts again. I wake Cody up and tell him he needs to take his dog out. He grumbles, does it, and then goes back to bed.


Morning comes, and I go downstairs with Thurmie to check on Brian. I find Brian snuggled up to Cody’s face by his pillow in his bed. He jumps up and runs to me at the foot of the bed with that little tail just a waggin’! I do notice that there were a couple of accidents at the foot of the bed, so I wake Cody up. Naturally, it was pure exhaustion having to wake up in the middle of the night, once, and take the dog out. He grunts, turns over, and goes back to sleep. Little Brian is still at the foot of the bed wondering where his brofur is. I pick him up, he hypnotizes me with that "puppy breath" and that was all it took for me, again!

Brian is far more laid back than my Thurmie. Doesn’t really seem to have a care in the world. (Other than sticks, bugs and bully sticks!) Oh, and his Daddy, my boyfriend. Brian is so attached to his Daddy! My boyfriend and him are the bestest of buds and hang out all the time! He seems to listen to his Daddy a lot better than he listens to me! But, I know he still loves me. When it’s bed time, he comes right to his Mommy, plops down in between my legs, and doesn’t move. There are a lot times that I will wake up in the morning, and he is laying right beside me, facing me, most of the time with his little paw on my face. I’m being serious right now, too! It’s the greatest feeling, to wake up to him facing me. "Mommy, it’s time to get up! Thank you for letting me sleep with you because I love you so much!"

I didn’t think it was possible to love another puppy the way I love Thurmie, but I do. Thurman and Brian are my sweet angel babies and I thank God every day for allowing them to come into my life. As I said with Thurman, they have made me a much better person. I can’t imagine my life without them, and the wonderful world they have brought me into. And to see the bond that Thurman and Brian share is a beautiful site as well. They are inseparable; always do what the other does; always together. Whenever we have to go to the vet for one or the other, they go together. It is so beautiful to know that not only is there a human/animal bond, but an animal/animal bond, too.


Sunday, 14 August 2011


Barney Fife and Abigail are my two sweet pups.  They are loving companions, and the best of friends.

Barney Fife is 14 years old.  He is a red standard smooth Dachshund.  He was a rescue dog;  his first owners decided that they were not ready for an active puppy, and I adopted him at the age of 1.  He is a very sweet boy.  He gives hugs and loves to cuddle.  He has been through surgery for anal sac cancer (he is over 2 years cancer-free now!) and the loss of two sister-pups who were puppy mill rescues.  Nothing has changed his enthusiasm for life, his sweet nature, and his love of playing.

Abigail (Abby) is almost 2.  She came to live with us last summer.  She is a Dachshund/Jack Russell mix, with the best traits of both breeds.  She was a rescue who was found as a stray in a shopping center parking lot.  A wonderful rescue group saved her life.  Abby has a very cheerful, happy personality - I call her my "little ray of sunshine."  She loves people (including children), dogs, cats, and even a pet bunny that she met.

Barney and Abby got along great from the moment they met.  They enjoy snuggling, grooming each other, and playing together (they both love toys!).   I feel so fortunate to have them both, and feel they are also blessed to have each other.

Trish @birdhousebooks

Wednesday, 10 August 2011


Just A Dog
"It’s just a dog."
You’ve heard it said before.
I’d like to point out some reasons this isn’t true,
some reasons you won’t be able to ignore.

When I wake up to a face full of licks from my dog,
it’s a great start to the day!
If you feel yours is "just a dog" and you don’t get any,
you’re going about it all the wrong way.

If my day goes good, and I need to share my excitement,
I can go to my dog and share my happiness.
If you feel yours is "just a dog" and don’t want to share it with them,
then you are missing a unique form of bliss.

If my day goes bad, and I just need a hug,
I can go to my dog and get one without hesitation.
If you feel yours is "just a dog" and you don’t get that hug,
to some, that can be pure devastation.

When I go to work, I have to leave my dogs behind.
I wonder what they are doing. I wish I could see.
If you feel yours is "just a dog", then it doesn’t matter to you
that they are home waiting for you, lonely.

When I come home from work, there is pure chaos!
My dogs are happy I’m home! They are jumping for joy!
If yours is "just a dog" then you’ll just go home
and pass by them with a simple "Hey boy."

The love my dogs give me, is one I’ve never felt.
It is unconditional, pure and faithful.
If you feel yours is "just a dog",
I bet inside you are pretty miserable.

I hope these few reasons can make you realize
that our dogs are Heaven sent. Can you understand?
If you STILL feel yours is "just a dog",
then I say: you are "just a human."

Monday, 8 August 2011


<guitar strums>

I got the Doxie Diarrhea blues.....Mama needs new shoes... Chorus of boos....Runny floors are their loos....

I kno's tho's blues, have had them too's, need doggy loo's, or a cork up the kaboose.

Freddie and Billie have had them tooooo. Arrrrooooo. The Doxie pooooey blues

Got the doxiepooeyblues, hows about yoos, not much you can do's, when you got the doxiepooeyblues


Friday, 5 August 2011

DOXIE TAILS 7 - Bisou Beacoup LaBelle

Bisou Beacoup LaBelle

When I was in college, I had a little red mini-doxie who kissed a lot and was adorable, hence her mangled French name (The Pretty One Who Kisses a Lot). When I married, my husband had a Weimaraner, named Gandalf, and the dogs became BFFs. One day we went for a walk and an Irish setter appeared out of nowhere and began attacking Gandalf. Fearless little Bisou lunged at the big red dog attacking her neck from beneath. A melee, but no one was hurt, thank God, when we pulled the dogs apart.

Fast forward several years later and we had a picnic for my husband’s co-workers, a group of surgical residents. Bisou, as usual, was under our area rug in our living room, sleeping. We pointed out the lump to people, alerting them to walk around her. One of the residents arrived with his dog (who was not invited), a red Irish setter, sporting a bandana. Out of nowhere, a blur of red weiner dog flew across the room and attached itself to the interloper’s neck. We had to peel our dog off the setter, who was terrified of the little badger hound. Bisou had a mouth full of red hair, but looked very satisfied

By Sharon Buchbinder

Wednesday, 3 August 2011


The “Mature” One

When my sister told me she was taking her children on a surprise road trip to get a dachshund puppy, I had only one question: “Can I come along for the ride?”

Famous last words.

There were 4 puppies in the litter, and I instantly bonded with one of the black and tan males. The breeder pointed to him and said, “He’s the mature one,” like it was a defect. My niece and nephew were ecstatic, as the breeder had handpicked the dog for them: one that would be good for a home with children. To my husband’s surprise, I came home with a puppy: the mature one.

My sister and I live in the same town, so we’ve been fortunate that Pretzel (her boy) and Bosco (my boy) have been a part of each other’s live for 10 years now. Over those years, my husband and I have kept Pretzel whenever my sister and her family took trips, and sometimes even when they were just going to be gone for the day at sporting events with their children. Pretzel’s family calls my home “Camp Bosco.” When he comes to stay, they pack up his bed, food, blankies, treats and toys. My sister even wrote his name on the bottom of his food bowl, just in case it gets lost, like a child’s belongings for camp!

Bosco and Pretzel know they are brothers and their love is unmistakable. Each one will tilt his head if we say the other’s name and run to the door for look for the sibling’s arrival.  When we walk them, people say “They look just alike!” but my husband and I know their differences so well. After all, Bosco is the mature one – at 10 weeks the breeder had him pegged.

  • Pretzel demands attention, physically and vocally. Bosco patiently waits for it.

  • Pretzel tears the stuffing out of toys. Bosco plays gentler and bites at toys around the areas where the stuffing is coming out.

  • Pretzel chases birds. Bosco knows it is a waste of energy.

  • Pretzel forces his body into the action when I am on the floor kissing Bosco. Bosco doesn’t mind waiting for me to finish kissing Pretzel. He knows I am a fair and equal kisser.

  • Pretzel wakes up ready for the hand monster to get his neck or especially his feet. Bosco asks that you allow him time to wake up slowly and stretch before you start getting silly with him.

  • Pretzel barks at anything that moves outside. Bosco knows that the leaves blowing across the street are not a threat to him, or me.

  • Pretzel wags his tail when you look at him or walk into a room, even if he is half-asleep. Bosco expresses his pleasure at seeing you in his eyes, and the way he rolls on his back for his favorite kisses in the world: chest kisses.

  • Pretzel tears up his beds and drags them across the room. Bosco appreciates his possessions and could never imagine destroying something as pleasurable and luxurious as his very own bed.

  • To the untrained eye, Pretzel appears more assertive and macho. People think they are little couple, with Bosco being the prettier more feminine looking of the pair. But little do they know that Pretzel is a big baby and Bosco is actually much more macho.

  • Last but not least, Pretzel has always dominated Bosco (hence his nickname, The Humpinator). Even now, at 10 years old, Pretzel has a need to remind us that he’s the dominant one. (Immature!). Bosco has never had to demonstrate his pack leadership. He knows it lives within him.

When I’m holding Bosco in the driveway waving bye to Pretzel as his family pulls away from Camp Bosco, without fail, every time Bosco stretches his neck up to lick me right on the mouth, as if to say: “That was fun, Mom! I really appreciate having brother over. But I am so happy we can now return to our normal, quiet routine.” I can relate.

We love and embrace their differences. And we love having the mature one. I assure you, Bosco is still fun, silly and entertaining. We will always celebrate their differences and be so thankful for having them in our lives. They have brought 2 sisters even closer to each other, over the years as one has raised her family and the other has been focused on a career. Staying in touch to check on the boys, update each other on their latest antics, and of course have visits, has allowed us to create so many great memories, for which we are thankful.  


Monday, 1 August 2011


                    Second Chance Love
                    By Abbey

Hi, my name is Abigail MacIntyre. My famous name is Abbey, but I didn’t always have such a glamorous and loving life. You see I’m a rescue dachshund (twice). Now I no longer need rescued. My calling is to help those that do.

My Mama was hurting terribly when she first laid eyes on me February 2010. Her dachshund, Shelby MacIntyre, of 15.5 years that she had raised from a pup had just crossed onward the same month that she found me…. or rather I found her.

(I’m hoping to introduce you to Shelby in another entry if that’s okay with the #doxieposse gang.)

The following is a very interesting story. Mama and I both were filled with heartache, .longing, confusion and an underlying pain that a vital part of our existence was missing.

 I longed for a family; she longed for the family that had just left her.

My first family ignored me and the result of that was felt while being locked up for two and a half years in a crate. I had only been out of the kennel once and had no idea what it felt like to walk on the grass or even be outside. A cat had scratched me, which resulted in a staph infection that my brief second family had to treat.

I’m told that I have a sister, Mindy, but I don’t recall knowing her. I am relieved that she is in the best of hands as she was rescued when I was and adopted by another family. Mama made a point to track her down to make sure she was being taken care of properly.

For six months I experienced life with my second family. That is until one of their older female dachshunds decided to use me as her new chew toy. 3-4 stitches later on my muzzle and 7 across my neck informed me that this life was just as dangerous as the first only this time instead of no contact obviously the kind I received was too dangerous for me to stay..

It was time to move on. It was much too soon for Mama to move in the same direction but God knew our paths would cross. What brought tragedy at the loss of one beloved dachshund would soon bring a deeper love as the result of Shelby’s many years on earth.

Through a series of networking from strangers and neighbors Mama was informed of my existence and my need to be rescued. She was quick to answer the call but cautious and torn to make the decision to bring me into her life.

I think the answer was my response to her that ensured my placement in her life furever! Mama tells people that I knew her before we met. I know it to be true. God whispered Mama’s name in my ear and in turn gave Shelby’s approval of our match.

When we met, I raced across the living room and smothered her with all the love that I wanted in return. She was left laughing and gasping for breath with my many kisses.

You see God knew we were both hurting and brought us together to help mend our broken hearts. I am classified as a ‘rescue’ dachshund but I think ironically that I rescued Mama when she needed me most!

Mama’s brother was a dachshund, Yorr, because that was the sound he made when he barked.. She has always LOVED animals, but especially dachshunds. In the fleeting moments when she would entertain having more than one dachshund certain criteria would surface. I met several of those requirements paws down.

I was first named ‘Gwaltney’ and I shudder at the thought of being called that repeatedly. My second family called me ‘Courtney’ to try not to veer too far from the sound of my true name. Mama did not hesitate to change all that.

Abigail ‘Abbey’ MacIntyre would be the name that I love to hear the most! Ironically Mama found out that my mother’s name is also Abigail. Interesting  fact and just so you know I caught on very quick to my new name. I’m smart that way!

I also taught myself to potty outside, but now I’m just bragging!

Saturday, 30 July 2011


                       Charlie Brown Clown

        I called him my “little brother”.  Charlie came to live with us when he was 5 years old and I was a senior in high school.  The year was 1995.  I had always wanted a dog.  Family members had raised dachshunds, so I was very excited to welcome Charlie into our home.  We were adopting him from my mother’s coworker.  She had two very young children and another dog and things where just getting a little tight in their home. 

        Charlie had a rough transition into our home.  He was used to a noisy home filled with kids and other animals. Our home was a library compared to his previous abode.  Only days after coming to live at our home, my mother’s mother passed away.  Charlie was a blessing for my mother dealing with this loss.  Charlie suffered with stomach troubles.  After several weeks and several trips to the vet, even a suggestion to take him to the state vet school for more tests, things settled down.  

        In the fall, I went off to college.  I loved coming home on the weekend to find Charlie waiting for me at the door. Charlie and I would “fight” for the end of the couch.  I had my spot on our old blue couch.  Anytime I moved to get a drink, answer the phone, or change the channel (remember when you got up to do that?) Charlie would steal my seat.  It would be treacherous to move him; he would show teeth in order to urge me not to move him out of this coveted warm spot on the blue couch.  On Sunday afternoons, when I had to pack up and head back to school, Charlie would follow me around the house.  My mom would call me on the road to say, “Charlie keeps going to your bedroom looking for you.”  His big sis had to leave, and it would break my heart to know he was “looking” for me.  
        Charlie had many mischievous acts in his nearly 15 years.  He once played “Cowboys and Indians” by scalping the hair off some baby dolls.  He got his paws a prized possession of mine, a rubber ink stamper. His greatest feat was getting a new can of peanuts out of a low cabinet, removing the plastic lid, peeling back the metal ring seal and dispersing the contents all over the kitchen floor while feasting on his tasty treat.  My mother and brother came home to find this mess and Charlie still grazing on the nuts.  Momma said, “Jason, pick up the peanuts and put them back in the can.”  Jason replied, “Yuck, we are NOT going to eat them?”  No, my mom just wanted to see how many Charlie had eaten.  No harm came to this little nut thief from this misadventure, but he wasn’t hungry for quite some time.  

        Charlie loved the warmth of the sunshine in the Mississippi Delta.  He was that preverbal wiener dog in the sun spot on the floor.  He was very adept at holding a bone or tennis ball in his front paws while chewing away.  Outside, Charlie loved to chase a ball or toy; he wasn’t so much for bringing them back to you though.  Once, he enjoyed an afternoon of running around the backyard with the water hose in his mouth.  He has a few tinkle accidents after that.

        In his later years, Charlie was a perfect role model for my wiener babies, Chuck and Basky.  Uncle Charlie taught them how to folic and play the wiener dog way.  He had a furcousin, Ben who he spent much time with at Paw Paw’s house.  Ben was trained to fetch newspapers and slippers.  Charlie had no such formal education.  Charlie’s time came in the spring of 2005.  He left behind a family of both human and wiener that loved him very much and still celebrate his memory today.  

Chucky and Basky's Mom

Friday, 29 July 2011


I need to tell you about Leo...

Leo came into my husband's and my life at the perfect time. We adopted Leo on June 23, 2010. So much was going on that year. I found out I was in renal failure, Bruce was laid off from his job of 23 yrs and his mother had passed away that June. In fact we were flying up to ON for her funeral which was why Leo didn't get picked up until the 23rd. We actually adopted him the Friday before but the rescue group agreed to keep him as it wasn't fair that we would have him the one night and then be flying out to ON to see the family.

As you can see Leo was a rescue and he is a senior. When we adopted him he was 9 yrs old. What we didn't know was how bad his aggression issues were, but we persevered. We took basic dog training classes which helped a lot! We read about the breed, we watched The Dog Whisperer and At The End of My Leash and read. I joined what groups I could find on the internet that were breed specific.

I was so thankful that I found the group,
the knitterly dachshund, on Ravelry (a knitting and crochet community) as they ultimately helped to save Leo. You see January 1, 2011 he went down. He was dragging his legs and his back was scrunched up. He looked as if somebody had smooshed him together. January 5th he had surgery. He was penned for 6-8 weeks and the group helped me on suggestions for all of us to deal with this. Leo is doing much better although this summer has been particularly hard on him because of all the rain. Sometimes if feels like we live in Vancouver, BC rather than sunny Alberta.

Leo has taught me patience, tolerance and above all unconditional love. He is the best!

Sincerely yours

Cora Shaw

Hi doxieposse and anipals!  Just a reminder to put on your leash and harness and take a walk over to Kenny and GiGi's fabulous website and give it a look and a listen at  We all love our Kenny and Ginger!!

Wednesday, 27 July 2011


I will be honest, I am high-maintenance. I love to have my hair done; love manicures and pedicures! I don’t like dirt or to get dirty! I have satellite tv, and even though I can only watch one channel at a time, I pay for over 900! I am a military brat, born in Japan, but raised in Texas. I sometimes think I’m a country girl living in a city girl’s body because there are times when I long to just sit in my rocking chair on my front porch and watch the world go by. I’ve never had a dog, always had cats. I have a wonderful life and I’m blessed in so many ways.
Rewind to 2006. I loose my best friend, my mother, on my birthday. I go through a very ugly divorce. Things aren’t looking too good and I’m exhibiting the signs of Depression 101. My saving grace is my son, who helps me pick myself back up. I also have an amazing boyfriend who is a true God-send. The polar opposite of myself, he was born and raised on a farm, had many cats and dogs, and even raised Great Danes! EEWW, dirty big dogs? My motto: Cats rule, dogs drool. He allows me to get 2 cats, littermates/sisters, and they are my little lovely girls. However, I can see his longing for a dog. Every time we go out to his parent’s farm, he sees his Great Dane and I can tell he misses having a dog around the house. I secretly start to look for one for him.
Keep in mind, I know absolutely NOTHING about dogs at this point. I am in uncharted territory here! I see an article in the paper that someone has Miniature Dachshunds for sale. I call the people because they live right across the street from the place where I work a part time job. They say that they have 4 of them, 1 being already spoken for, but 3 available to look at. I tell them I’ll get back with them. I go online to the local animal shelter website, and there is a Great Dane/Boxer mix puppy. I call my boyfriend and tell him about it, and he immediately goes there to see this puppy. He can tell she will be a good little girl, but that she won’t be little for long! Our house is not big at all (hence the reason his Great Dane lives out at the farm), and he was a little concerned about not giving her enough space to run and play. (A good note: there was a couple at the shelter wanting to look at this puppy, too, and ended up adopting her right after us!) It’s cold and raining outside, my boyfriend is clearly upset, so I tell him about the Mini-Doxies. He has never had a "small dog", but he really wanted a dog, so he entertained the idea of going to look at them. I call the people and make the appointment. THIS IS WHERE MY LIFE IS CHANGED FOREVER!
I mentioned earlier that I have never had a dog. I am now 43 years old (39 at the time this is occurring), and having cats was plenty for me. He was constantly telling me that there is nothing like the love of a dog. I didn’t listen because I was completely content with my cats. But, he longed for the companionship of a dog, so we go and look at the puppies. We walk into this tiny apartment, and the lady brings out a tupperware storage tub. I look down in the tub, and my heart races. There are these 4 little black things yipping and wiggling around. OH MY GOD, with the exception of my son as a baby, these could be THE cutest things I’ve ever seen in my life! The lady puts them all on the floor, we sit down, and my boyfriend tells me to just sit there and let "the one" come to me. Here comes this adorable little black and tan thing, sniffs my legs, then crawls into my lap and plops down. I am now in tears as I’ve just been "claimed" by the love of my life. I pick him up, and smell the most hauntingly beautiful smell I’ve ever smelled. My boyfriend says, "Honey, that’s puppy breath." I can’t put him down. I feel this rush of calmness come over me, like this little thing knew that I needed him to give me peace and happiness; to change my life forever.
I will be honest, I am high-maintenance. I love to have my hair done; love manicures and pedicures. HOWEVER, since my dog has come into my life, things like that aren’t as important as they once were. Oh, I’m still high-maintenance; but if I miss an appointment, it’s not a problem. There will always be another one. I am a much better person now because of my dog. He has taught me compassion, patience, humility. Most of all, unconditional love. I truly believe that this was my Mother’s way of saying that it was ok that she was gone. I can live a happy life and know what true love really is. My dog has taught me true happiness, and I can’t say it enough: I’m a better person because of my dog. And we will call Thing One: Thurman. My sweet baby Thurmie.

Sunday, 24 July 2011

Billie's Beginnings

Billie is my heart.  God gave her to me when I needed her the most.

Billie was born on March 2 2005 in horrible conditions. She lived in a tiny cage with her mama and brothers and sisters at a small breeds puppy mill.  My dad, who once raised doxies, was called to the site because the rescue organization knew him well and thought that he could help with what they had found.  When they had arrived Billie's mama and siblings had all passed over the rainbow bridge.  Billie was hungry and cold.  My dad picked her up and put her in his shirt and took her home with him.

Now it so happened that 4 days after my dad met Billie it was my birthday.  We already had a spunky little doxie named Freddie who ruled the roost.  My dad thought that Billie needed another doxie, since we all know that they like to have a friend. He  drove 2 hours and brought Billie to me, grinning from ear to ear, telling me happy birthday!  I was thrilled.  I had grown up with at least 5 doxies in the house at all times.  Billie was beautiful.  She had gorgeous long ears.  She was a black and tan standard smooth and her back was very very long.  I looked at her long back and looked at my dad, raising my eyebrows, wondering why he, a man who knew a good doxie bloodline, would bring me a doxie with this problem, and he told me her story. 

Here's where the story takes a turn, so take a breath before you read.  My beloved dad, the BEST dad anyone could every hope for…..left me that day forever.  On his way home from giving me my Billie, the front wheel on his truck sheered off and he was killed.  Billie is my heart. 

Billie grew into a very long doxie with fabulous ears and the most beautiful almond eyes.  She has the sweetest disposition.  After we lost dad, she was my touch stone.  My one thing...the last thing he touched.  She helped me get through some very hard times and always seemed to know when I needed those special cuddles.

When Billie was 4 years old things started going wrong.  Really wrong.  My good friend and I would take our dogs for walks.  Her dog, Stanley, a beagle, liked to play and he would jump on Billie's back with his front feet when we were out walking. He did this repeatedly for weeks. 

One day when we got home from our walk Billie went and laid down on her pillow and wouldn't get up.  She wouldn't eat.  I took her to our vet and explained about Stanley.  The vet thought that Billie's back was sore and said just to let her rest.  So rest she did.  About 10 days later she seemed to be fine and back to her old self, but then she started coughing.  She would cough and cough and not be able to stop.  I felt her nose.  It was hot and dry.  Her ears were hot.  She quit eating and would only drink.  I drove her up to the vet, her head laying on my lap. I was terrified.  The vet took my poor sick girlie from me….I had to leave her there.

The vet phoned me an hour later.  Billie was close to death with severe pneumonia. If I hadn't taken her to the vet she would have passed within hours.  Billie had to stay 12 days at the vets.  She was so sick.  I went up every 2 days (it was a 40 minute drive) to see her.  When the vet phoned that I could come and get her I was so excited!  I immediately went to get her.  She jumped and danced!  We got in the car and she jumped around….and jumped in the back seat…..and stopped. 

I thought something was odd? When I got Billie home she was dragging her left right leg.  I didn't understand.  I called the vet.  She said bring her back-right now.  I had the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Every part of me was screaming no!  When we got back to the vets she did some tests and said Billie needed to go to the emergency pet hospital in the city so away we went. 

At the hospital in the city the specialist took Billie away from me. They x-rayed and did tests and then had me come and watch as they tried to help her walk.  The Dr. told me he was sure that Billie was going to be fine.  To take her home and let her rest.  I went home feeling so much better.  Billie was going to be fine! BUT….

The next morning when I got up Billie wasn't moving….she was paralyzed.  She had IVDD.  Her tail didn't wag and neither one of her back legs could move.  She had no bowel, or bladder control.  I called my vet.  She told me to that there was nothing to be done and that the best thing would be to put Billie to sleep. 

Now please understand dear reader that despite having had doxies my entire life, never once had I encountered one with IVDD.  I had no idea what to do...none.  I was husband took the phone and listened.  He made an appointment for Billie to be put to sleep.  I went and laid beside her on her little bed.  Stroking that precious head. I cried and cried.

My husband came and stood over us.  Looking at us he said 'Let's give her some time.'  We agreed that we would give her a week.  We called back the vet and rescheduled the appointment and the vet told us how to express her bowel and bladder

Every day was the same.  I expressed Billie's bowel and bladder as the vet had instructed me. I tried to get Billie to eat.  I cooked her little sausages.  I would chew them up first and then she would eat the little people this was an act of true love...I'm a vegetarian!

Day 1, day 2, day 3, day 4, day 5...nothing changed.  On day 6 I went off to play for a commitment I had. There was no music in my heart as I went.  I sang. I played. With no soul.  When I arrived home, all I could think about is I only have 1 more day.

When I got out of my car I saw that my husband had Billie outside with him.  I was horrified!  He looked at me and said 'Billie kicked her leg'

I said ' I think you are just seeing things'

He said ' no I'm not!  I know how she loves the sun and thought I would let her lay out in the sun...this one last time...and she kicked her leg!!'

Still not believing him I walked into the house.  I put my harp away in my studio and picked up a dog magazine that I had been reading.  At the back of the magazine were the Dachshund adds.  One of the adds said 'Fight IVDD go to Dodgers'   I sat there...looking at that add wondering if there was hope, when my husband called me in an urgent voice.  I went running….and saw her leg kick.

We called the vet.  She said if Billie's movement was going to return it would return in the reverse of what it left. That is what happened.  The vet offered me no other help...none.  I didn't know what to do.  Remembering the add I went onto and there I found the fabulous Linda Stowe.  With Linda's help I learned that Billie needed to be on complete crate rest for the next 6-8 weeks.  That water therapy would help Billie gain her strength again.  Gradually Billie got better.  Her tail wagged!  She regained bowel and bladder function, and then finally on the 5th miracle day, her other leg moved! 

I cannot thank Dodgers List enough. Linda emailed or phoned me every day for two weeks.  She answered every question and had invaluable information for me.  She cared so much.  There are just no words that can express the gratitude I have to Linda.

Billie wobbled for a while.  She would stand up and fall over.  For a while Billie could run but could not walk.  She developed anxieties from being kept in the crate.  To this very day, she hates that crate.  Eventually though, she regained her motor control and could walk, but for several months you could hear her back toe nails drag very slightly.

We put in ramps every where!  She no longer was allowed to go outside using the stairs.  She was no longer allowed to jump on or off the couch.  New commands were taught in our house. The first and most important being no jumping!  The next thing was to get rid of the collars. No collars ever!  Only harnesses….so much easier on their backs.

Billie continues to have some health problems.  The pneumonia damaged her heart and we battle with heart failure now.  She is on quite a lot of medication for that.  This past winter she broke her tail and that caused her some back pain, so back in the crate she had to go.  She was NOT happy with me over that one.

I strongly encourage all longdoglovers to go to and educate yourself about IVDD.  Learn the signs.  Learn what to do!  Don't be caught off guard like I was.  And above all….if your dog is diagnosed with IVDD don't give up.  If the worst happens and Billie goes down again, there will be no thought what so ever of putting her to sleep.  Dodgers List has educated me!  Billie will have cool wheels, but of course I hope that will never happen.

Secondly, most of Billie's problems are most likely because she is the product of a puppy mill.  Let's work together to ban these horrible horrible places.

Billie is my heart.  God gave her to me when I needed her most.