Post by Paul on Dec 24, 2004 8:57:13 GMT 9.5
Sad Suzi
They say every family has its dog, but somehow over the years I think we've had more than our fair share. We've had big dogs, small dogs, fat ones, thin ones, pure breds and mongrels; Harry the Dirty Dog was one of those, the ingrate who killed the chooks. We've had happy dogs, friendly dogs, aggressive dogs and sad dogs. Suzi was a sad dog. Not at first though.
We bought Suzi from the Dog's Home at Magill in the 60's sometime after we came to live in South Australia.
She was a beautiful little dachshund who the attendant reckoned was about two years old. "We haven't had to sterilize her," she said. "Look, she's got a scar, so obviously she's been done by her original owner."
For that we were thankful as we didn't have to pay the sterilization fee. We asked about the owner, but apparently they'd just asked to leave her there. They couldn't keep her as they said they were moving interstate.
She was a delightful little dog. We all came to love her very much. We couldn't believe that anyone could have abandoned her to a dog's home. We took her everywhere, her short little legs trotting to keep up. She couldn't swim as we found out when we took her to the river where she sank like a stone. She had funny little habits we thought were cute, like digging holes in the garden and hiding the girl's dolls. She was an outside dog; no way would she sleep indoors.
She surprised us when she came on heat a couple of times. We came to the conclusion that she couldn't have been sterilized as they'd told us at the Home and thought it might be nice to have her mated. Our eight year old who was destined to become a vet, organised the whole affair as she had a friend whose uncle had a pure bred male dachshund who would only be too happy to oblige for the usual fee.
My husband organized a proper whelping kennel but Suzi wouldn't entertain it and took to digging little holes again all over the place and sitting in them for a day or two. We thought perhaps it might be something to do with the breed, for none of our other dogs had ever done that. She was funny sight by that time, so swollen that her stomach was brushing the ground as she trotted around energetically after the children, but as lively as ever.
One morning one of the children came running up from the stable highly excited, shouting "Suzi's had babies! Suzi's had babies!" We all flew down to find Suzi sitting in a nest under one of the benches in the tack room, as proud as punch, with four tiny perfectly formed pups around her.
We decided to leave her where she had chosen, making her as comfortable as we could with fresh bedding and plenty of food and water. It worried us a bit that the pups seemed to cry a lot, but we could find nothing wrong. Suzi was obviously coping. She was with them all the time and they were always nuzzling her.
On the third day we went down to see them and found Suzi covered in blood. Underneath her were four little pups, their heads bitten off.
We were devastated. We took Suzi and her headless family down to the vet, who examined them carefully. "Did you know she had no teats?" he asked.
"What!"
"There was no way she could have fed them. They must have been starving. She's probably killed them to stop them from suffering."
He looked at the scar on her stomach. We explained we'd been told by the Home that she's already been sterilized. "It appears to me she's had a caesarean at some time. The same thing could have happened before."
We often wondered why such a lovely well bred, well cared for little dog had been abandoned at a dog's home. Perhaps she'd had a litter and killed her babies. Perhaps the owners couldn't cope and had to get rid of her? If only we had known! We could have fed the pups ourselves.
Suzi lived for another year or two but became increasingly peculiar in her habits. She took to digging more and more holes to make nests and burying anything she could find in them; dead birds, a piece of rabbit fur, a child's soft ball. In the end she stole an old soft dolly belonging to one of the girls, which she guarded jealously, growling at anyone who came near.
We found her dead in her nest one day, cuddled into her dolly. There was no reason we could see for her to die. The children and I are convinced to this day that she died of a broken heart.
I have been haunted for years by the death of this little dog, by the unthinking, unknowing ignorance of we humans. I have blamed myself for not knowing enough to help. We all did what we could; we loved her, we cared for her, but in the end that wasn't enough.
©Pat Lloyd. Gawler, SA.
They say every family has its dog, but somehow over the years I think we've had more than our fair share. We've had big dogs, small dogs, fat ones, thin ones, pure breds and mongrels; Harry the Dirty Dog was one of those, the ingrate who killed the chooks. We've had happy dogs, friendly dogs, aggressive dogs and sad dogs. Suzi was a sad dog. Not at first though.
We bought Suzi from the Dog's Home at Magill in the 60's sometime after we came to live in South Australia.
She was a beautiful little dachshund who the attendant reckoned was about two years old. "We haven't had to sterilize her," she said. "Look, she's got a scar, so obviously she's been done by her original owner."
For that we were thankful as we didn't have to pay the sterilization fee. We asked about the owner, but apparently they'd just asked to leave her there. They couldn't keep her as they said they were moving interstate.
She was a delightful little dog. We all came to love her very much. We couldn't believe that anyone could have abandoned her to a dog's home. We took her everywhere, her short little legs trotting to keep up. She couldn't swim as we found out when we took her to the river where she sank like a stone. She had funny little habits we thought were cute, like digging holes in the garden and hiding the girl's dolls. She was an outside dog; no way would she sleep indoors.
She surprised us when she came on heat a couple of times. We came to the conclusion that she couldn't have been sterilized as they'd told us at the Home and thought it might be nice to have her mated. Our eight year old who was destined to become a vet, organised the whole affair as she had a friend whose uncle had a pure bred male dachshund who would only be too happy to oblige for the usual fee.
My husband organized a proper whelping kennel but Suzi wouldn't entertain it and took to digging little holes again all over the place and sitting in them for a day or two. We thought perhaps it might be something to do with the breed, for none of our other dogs had ever done that. She was funny sight by that time, so swollen that her stomach was brushing the ground as she trotted around energetically after the children, but as lively as ever.
One morning one of the children came running up from the stable highly excited, shouting "Suzi's had babies! Suzi's had babies!" We all flew down to find Suzi sitting in a nest under one of the benches in the tack room, as proud as punch, with four tiny perfectly formed pups around her.
We decided to leave her where she had chosen, making her as comfortable as we could with fresh bedding and plenty of food and water. It worried us a bit that the pups seemed to cry a lot, but we could find nothing wrong. Suzi was obviously coping. She was with them all the time and they were always nuzzling her.
On the third day we went down to see them and found Suzi covered in blood. Underneath her were four little pups, their heads bitten off.
We were devastated. We took Suzi and her headless family down to the vet, who examined them carefully. "Did you know she had no teats?" he asked.
"What!"
"There was no way she could have fed them. They must have been starving. She's probably killed them to stop them from suffering."
He looked at the scar on her stomach. We explained we'd been told by the Home that she's already been sterilized. "It appears to me she's had a caesarean at some time. The same thing could have happened before."
We often wondered why such a lovely well bred, well cared for little dog had been abandoned at a dog's home. Perhaps she'd had a litter and killed her babies. Perhaps the owners couldn't cope and had to get rid of her? If only we had known! We could have fed the pups ourselves.
Suzi lived for another year or two but became increasingly peculiar in her habits. She took to digging more and more holes to make nests and burying anything she could find in them; dead birds, a piece of rabbit fur, a child's soft ball. In the end she stole an old soft dolly belonging to one of the girls, which she guarded jealously, growling at anyone who came near.
We found her dead in her nest one day, cuddled into her dolly. There was no reason we could see for her to die. The children and I are convinced to this day that she died of a broken heart.
I have been haunted for years by the death of this little dog, by the unthinking, unknowing ignorance of we humans. I have blamed myself for not knowing enough to help. We all did what we could; we loved her, we cared for her, but in the end that wasn't enough.
©Pat Lloyd. Gawler, SA.
