Two years ago today, I went to bed with a heavy heart. First thing in the morning, I was to go pick up a dog I had seen only once before, take him away from his family including three other dog friends, and bring him into a completely different environment than he was used to: Big city, no yard but parks and streets, a family he didn’t know, and an old lady of a cat who had not really met any dogs before. To say I was freaking out would be putting it mildly.
As you can guess, it’ll be the two-year anniversary of one of the most life-changing days of my life: the day Charlie moved in. I remember not really allowing myself to be believe it was real, until we walked him to the car, strapped him in and drove away from his old home. And still, I was expecting him to cry, and he didn’t. Instead, he fell asleep on my son, napping all the way to Berlin, and after arriving, took a happy walk with me at the little park around the corner. Up in the apartment, he checked out his new digs and promptly fell back asleep again next to me on the couch.
At the time, I didn’t realize how many hours per day Dachshunds really sleep (up to 17!), and I was all sorts of worried he might be in shock, pining for his old home, people and dog friends, and want to go back home.
The things I didn’t know then were many, but my intentions were good, and I was willing to learn. All in all, everything went so much better than I would have expected, and Charlie seemed really happy with us. Not once did I have the impression he was missing something. To the contrary, he seemed to latch onto me almost instantaneously, following me around the house wherever I went (including bathroom), sleeping next to me burrowed under the same blanket, sharing my desk chair (talk about dynamic sitting!) …
Charlie came to live with us when he was 9 months old. He was not a puppy anymore, and had just hit puberty. The previous owners had already used him to make babies at 6 or 7 months old; the reason they had to give him away was a genetic incompatibility with one of the other female dogs (not the one whose 5 puppies he fathered), and they were nervous lest an unwanted pregnancy should happen. He had only been with that family for 6 months before moving in with us. You could say that he had a bit of a first year!
I made an appointment with a dog trainer right away, who taught me many useful things in the handful of sessions we did. The rest was flying by the seat of my pants, faith, and most of all, unconditional love.
The last one came easily. I’d grown up with a Dachshund when I was little, who was very much my mom’s dog; I missed him when I moved out, but there was never a question of me taking him with me, or wanting one of my own – it just didn’t seem practical. I was young, had classes and a student job, and later on work, and went out a a lot at night. So, no dog, but soon enough, cats. They were wonderful, and even though I always loved dogs, actually owning one, taking the responsibility seemed way out of my league. Cats, I could handle.
Then I had my son. I learned I could be a mom, that I wasn’t bad at it at all, and that it made me unexpectedly happy – suddenly, responsibility didn’t seem so scary anymore.
But it was only much later, when we went to see our family in California, fall of 2018, that the dog idea was born. We went out the night before my daughter turned 10, our folks took time off from work to do stuff and travel around a bit with us, their youngest and my daughter got on like a house on fire, and we enjoyed two great weeks with them.
Also, they have a dog, who was kind enough to let me pet him, a lot. One night, we were sprawled on the couch, dog in my lap, talking about what I don’t remember. I was stroking his silky fur, apparently looking blissed out or something, because suddenly my husband burst out: Alright, alright, alright!
So I can actually pinpoint when it was that I actually let myself think about the possibility of getting a dog. Not a Border Collie like our family’s in California, because I don’t have that kind of yard, and I’m not a runner or cycler, and those breeds need their daily workout. Something smaller, maybe. My husband said, maybe a Beagle? Very cute dogs. Maybe a Jack Russell Terrier. Maybe a mutt from the shelter. Maybe, maybe, maybe …
A few months later, I was looking for something on ebay Classified ads, and completely out of the blue typed in: Dachshund. And lo and behold, in the listings, there was a picture of Charlie. I was mesmerized. The kids were like: But … but we have a cat. This was true. My husband said: But … but you don’t have time for a dog! Or did I? I slept on it, then wrote to the lady and asked for details, told her who we were, and that I’d very much like to meet Charlie if possible.
She called me back right away, and we talked for a good while. Then she said she already had a few offers, and she’d get back to us. It was a weird couple of weeks in limbo, not knowing what was what. After a number of messages to and fro, I said: Listen. We’re spending our Easter holidays close to where you are. We’d be willing to come see you. Please let us know whether you want to meet, or else let us know if you’ve decided for someone else. We just need to know.
In the end, they came to see us at the cottage. Charlie seemed to like us, the dad was crying a tear or two at the thought of letting him go, but evidently we made a good impression, because the same evening she called and said they were willing to let us have him.
There he is, in my lap, and I touched him as carefully as if he was made of glass … and still, I didn’t let myself believe it was real, even though by that time, I’d realized I wanted it to be, so much – until the day that was tomorrow two years ago.
I do not have a single regret. It was the best decision ever. I’m deeply in love with Charlie, as are my husband and kids, and we cherish every single day with him. He makes me laugh, he makes me go outside and walk every day, and without wanting to sound dramatic, I can honestly say that I feel complete now. Who knew it took a small, bow-legged, big-hearted fellow with a long snoot to accomplish that?
My kids say he has my nose ;-). Isn’t it true that dogs and their owners often have a great resemblance?
Thank you everyone who has been part of that journey, and thank you, kind readers, for taking a walk down memory lane with me tonight.
Have a good week!