Schnitzel can be sweet and a good dog most of the time. When she's excited to see you she'll roll onto her back for a belly rub. She wants to be with people so she likes to come up next to you, her butt resting against your leg. A big dog in a little dog's body she is the guard dog, keeping the house safe from garbage trucks, the mailman, and any dog who dares walk by her new territory. The front windows are low enough that she can put her short front legs up on the ledge and shoot her icey gaze out at any intruders (or just people walking their dogs). I can take her food away without a snarl and usually do the same with toys though bones sometimes gets her edgey. And her signature move is sometimes if you're really sad she'll put her paws on your chest and stick her nose on your face as if she's asking "why are you making those noises and what is this water coming out of your face?" But Schnitz can also be a little asshole. Well, asshole is a strong word. She likes being with people, so if you leave her alone she either has separation anxiety or she just gets bored. About the second week we were here I decided she might be ok being left alone for a bit. With a track record of pulling up carpet I decided to gate her into the kitchen with her bed, water, and toys. Always, mischevious and daring I moved the chairs away from the breakfast table and made sure there was no food on it (I'll tell you about the gingerbread house incident later). Upon returning we found her waiting by the front door! My short little dachshund had somehow hopped or climbed the baby gate that was supposed to keep her in the kitchen. Strewn across the living room floor I found remnants of a new small bag of treats that she had eaten and a small plastic ziplock bag. I had ensured the breakfast table was safe but not the dining room table! I had assumed she wouldn't get past the gate but she fooled me. She had eaten a small bag of homemade peanut brittle. There was a chewed up empty plastic water bottle on my bed, apparently her place of choice to wait for us. Oh and she peed in the hallway probably as an F-you for leaving her alone.
This happened so soon after she became mine that it scared me. I started having second thoughts. What had I done? This little four legged life was in my hands and she was now barfing peanuts. Doubts crept in my head that I couldn't do this, that I had made a mistake. There were countless texts to J about my feeling inept and inferior. Was Schnitzel going to be happy living with me? And would she survive?
My family had a dog growing up but I feel like the 90's were very different than today. Today people have dog purses and strollers and feed them holistic grain-free vegan food that they bought at the specialty shop referred to them by their doggie acupuncturist. Back then there was still the concept of an "outside dog" which today most people would say is closer to animal abuse. Honestly I don't think we took very good care of Candy and that was the only experience I had of owning a dog. Through the years I have dog sat and visited friends with the sole purpose of playing and being in the presence of their dog. But there is this line between hanging out with a dog and owning a dog that changes you. Any sign of distress and I am on Facebook asking the masses if something is deathly wrong with my dog and if I should do something about it. I am freaking out about every time she throws up, skips, and scratches. I'm a new dog mom. If this is any indicator of what I'm going to be like as a new parent, then I hope my future wife has a deep sense of patience with me.
Today the panic has subsided a bit. We've both become accustomed to living here for the most part and have our routine. She's been sleeping in my bed with me ever since one morning she was really restless and when I let her out she had chewed a hot spot at the base of her tail. For a while it was so I could stop her from scratching too much, now I think it's cause we both like it. I'm scared I'm going to accidentally kick her though. No more are the regrets, and when other dog parents share about the crazy things their dogs get into I feel better. I look forward to coming home knowing she'll be happy to see me. She's cute. She's the best. She's mine. And I'm realizing I wouldn't have it any other way.
