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!