Trudy, as she was known, was my birthday present 12 years ago. She was a red dachshund and a spoiled brat.
She was our second dachshund. In a tragic accident, I ran over Frauleinen Stephanie von Whomper. I seriously did not know if I could live through her death. I grieved and I grieved hard, especially as it was my fault. Stevie was a Cracker Jack and I mourned her hard.
After a few weeks, we couldn’t stand coming home to an empty house any longer and we “rescued” Willy the Italian Greyhound from a local pet store. Six months after that, I was ready for another dachshund and Trudy came to our home from a trailer in South Point, Ohio.
As dachshunds are wont, Trudy was independent, needy, spoiled, and a complete delight. She had the prettiest eyes. She and Willy bonded. They were quite the pair. More importantly, she and my son bonded. It was the Great American Love Story.
A few years ago, my son called and said, “Yo, Mom.” Any conversation that starts with “Yo, Mom” is to be taken very seriously. As it turns out, he was working up the courage to ask me to let Willy and Trudy come live with him in Charlotte. He really wanted just Trudy, but she and Willy were a bonded pair.
Chef Boy ‘R Mine and Stevie had been very close. We got Willy because he couldn’t handle another dachshund. When I wanted to bring Trudy home, he said, “Whatever.” Who knew that she would become the most important creature in hi life?
They fell in love with each other almost immediately.
As it turns out, I was ready to let Chef Boy ‘R Mine have the two dogs. It was the right time and they were better off with him than me.
Trudy went into heart failure a week ago today. My son had to make the horrible decision to have her euthanized. Evidently, he tried to call me in the moments of grief but it was late. I was sleeping and didn’t hear the phone ring the four times before it went to the answering machine.
I hate that I wasn’t there for him.
We’re going to miss Trudy. She was something special. My heart just aches.
It’s Throwback Thursday and I’m in an impossibly good mood. Things are going well in my life and that’s such a change from recent years. I’ve mentioned before that the Raising Sand album my Alison Krauss and Robert Plant has been one of my mourning staples. I’m far enough in the grief process that I no longer cry when I hear these songs — they just provoke wonderful memories of Doug.
I’m in my office at work — lunch at my desk — and rocking out to the album. I’m happy, but I do miss him.
Today I’ve been reflective about all the changes that have occurred in the past few years – chief of these the loss of Doug, my partner, and The Beautiful Babette, the sweetest Shih Tzu of all time.
The Mexican Day of the Dead celebrations are joyous affairs. While reflective, I was also happy in my memories of Doug and Babette today. It’s been long enough that it doesn’t hurt to think about them. I like the idea that they might be walking among us today and tomorrow. I hope they’re together and I hope they think of me as fondly as I think of them.
I searched Craigslist, the entire eastern seaboard and much of the Midwest , for a puppy to no avail. It wasn’t until my early morning, not enough coffee, attempt in which I misspelled Dachshund and found a female puppy about 40 miles down the road in Kentucky at a price I was willing to pay.
She’s a beauty. I had thought I wanted a red, smooth hair Dachshund. What I have is a coal black, smooth hair Dachshund. She’s black velvet and midnight giggles. She’s just perfect.
I am so happy.
And so is Phoebe. So far Emmylou (she’s a blue, Kentucky girl) has played with Phoebe’s toys, eaten Phoebe’s food, monopolized Phoebe’s mom and pretty much made herself at home. Phoebe is all smiles. I suspected she needed a playmate and I was right.
Dachshunds are special creatures. Nothing snuggles like a Dachshund. And they make these cute little sounds and they’re just so damn cute. I very much have a case of puppy love.