My best friend was dying. Amber, my thirteen-year-old Cocker Spaniel, was succumbing to Cushing's disease. She had a stroke that left her face partially paralyzed. She had little quality of life remaining, and I knew I must soon end her suffering.
My husband knew that I had always wanted a miniature Dachshund. In December, more than thirteen years ago, he told me to get in the car and ask no questions. But I caught on; he was headed for the pet store that only sold puppies from reputable local breeders, not "puppy mills." Knowing Amber's fate, I tearfully told my husband that I couldn't love a puppy right now because "I can't love a puppy, it's disloyal to Amber." But he knew me better than I knew myself, and in moments I was holding a smooth-coated male mini-Dachshund, only eight weeks old. Just one look into each other's eyes, and we were both hooked for life. He went home with us that late December Montana day, wrapped in my coat to keep him warm.
We named him Vlad. What a terror he was! His antics reminded us of Vlad the Impaler, the legendary ruler of Romania that formed the basis for Bram Stoker's immortal character, Count Dracula. Our Vlad soon showed us that he could lie in wait and quickly pounce on Amber, much like the Count did to his victims. Amber hated him on sight, and looked at me as if saying "How could you do this to me?
Since Vlad was a Christmas puppy, my husband put all three pounds of him into my Christmas stocking on the morning of the 25th. Vlad found this action so preposterous that his expression of Dachshund angst is immortalized in a picture that still sits on my office desk.
Amber died two months later, euthanized as I held her in my arms and whispered my thanks to her for being my best friend for so many years. Vlad missed her, too. He looked for her for several days, until he gradually realized his pack-mate was gone forever.
Vlad was our "prototype" mini-Dachshund. He was our first, but not our last since nine more Doxies have been initiated into our "pack." They're like peanuts - once you have one, you can't stop! Vlad was eccentric from Day One. He's people-shy and became very set in his ways. As our eldest, he regarded subsequent additions to the pack with disdain. I believe that dogs bond to a particular human pack-mate, and Vlad was my dog from the start. We understand each other. But Vlad never hesitated to give new pack members "the snarl" if they bugged him, which they always did.
Vlad will turn fourteen in November, 2006. He's a bit senile, but otherwise in good health. Incredibly, he has adopted one of our youngest pack members, Taz, as his own. He loves her like a grandfather and I know Taz will mourn his death as much as I will. The empty space Vlad will leave in my heart will be keenly felt forever.
