I laugh just remembering how he used to nap on his back with his paws straight in the air. Or how he would sit up on his hind legs, begging for food. Or how he would lick us to death when we made a funny sound. Or howl when he heard the sirens of an emergency vehicle. Or how he would throw his dry dog food in the air, playing with it before either eating it or having it roll under the couch.
Since this is a garden column, I’ll use an analogy I’ve used before. It goes back to when I was a child and used to climb the lemon tree in my grandmother’s backyard, picking lemons and also getting scratched from the unforgiving thorns.
Yes, lemon trees have thorns, really big thorns. They also feature sour fruit. You can complain about those aspects of lemons or you can make lemonade. Mugsy, the miniature dachshund, was the type that would have made lemonade. Really good lemonade.
You see, Mugsy started out as the runt of the litter, meaning he was the smallest. When we bought him from a breeder in Hollister, he had a few scratches on his head where his brothers and sisters had picked on him. Nevertheless, Mugsy grew up to be big -- oh, did he grow up to be big -- so big that (except for the not-so-long nose) was the size of a standard dachshund.
Around six years ago he developed back problems and was paralyzed for a while. We thought we were going to lose him then, but some how, he got better. Then, he came down with intestinal problems and life was not good. Luckily, three types of medication got that under control.
Finally, three years ago he went blind. But being the fighter he was, Mugsy didn’t allow blindness to faze him. He quickly learned the layout of the house and garden. Mugs would deftly maneuver around table and chair legs as if he could see. And his hearing was better than ever as he could hear a potato chip bag open from three rooms away! Mugsy’s blindness even had a benefit in that he mellowed quite a bit. If you don’t know
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