Pups in Tea Cups: Tales of Littleness Overcoming BIG Odds Read online

  Of course, my clients followed none of this advice.

  Instead, they tried to make a plastic enclosure for her inside the shower, but even that wouldn’t do. You see, “Wasabi” was intent on protecting them from the evil shower, and how could she do that if she were behind plastic? Please!

  So my clients hired a contractor, who came out and built a plastic “awning” inside the shower so that “Wasabi” could sit inside the shower, not get very wet, and still be able to lick her owner’s legs if the mood struck her.

  Now, every day and every time any member of the family takes a shower, “Wasabi” jumps in with them, gets up onto her little step (with a waterproof bed, no less), sits under the awning, and stands guard.

  Problem solved!

  No brain tumor, just silliness.

  So there we have it. Little dogs aren’t just appealing because of their tiny frames. Somewhere along the way, we packed our Portable Pooches full of personality, plus some!

  They are so very demanding, but so very loving—it’s very nearly a fault. If you think your Labrador is high maintenance, read the next essay to see just how wrong you are!

  Tales from the Tea Cup:

  “Love Bug”

  Every Valentine’s Day, I am reminded of two little Yorkie puppies that I met very early in my career (I don’t want to age myself, but it was before CDs had been invented. #ouch)

  I was just a kennel assistant back then, but my heart still broke when the two little puppies came in.

  Back then, parvo was a very serious disease with a super-high mortality rate. We always did everything we could, but back then, we just didn't have the knowledge or resources to save most of them.

  But here came these two pups, so sick, but so in love with one another.

  Per standard protocol, we separated them into two different cages. They were side by side. But that was not enough. Somehow, they moved the barrier and were found snuggled together.

  Okay. We tried putting them in two different banks of cages. Somehow, one of them broke out, and was found lying up against the bars—with the other lying on the bars from her side.

  Now remember, I was just a kennel assistant, but I cared for a lot of patients and had great instincts, so I told the vet that I thought we should keep them together.

  He had never heard of such a thing, and neither had I. I just had a gut feeling that they needed one another.

  So with not a lot else that we could do, we decided to keep them together. It took several days. Hour by hour, they got stronger.

  And they survived! It was the first set of pups we had that were that sick that fully recovered.

  The owners, who came in every day to visit, decided to call the pair “Love” and “Bug.”

  Those two pups went on to live happy, long lives.

  After those two, though, we realized the importance of managing body heat and the simple comfort of having another animal with them.

  For the really sick little babies, my Border Collie, “Sox,” would curl up with those sick puppies to let them know that someone in the world loved them very much. I can’t tell you what that did for our survival rates.

  Even after so many advances have been made and how much better our survival rates are, there is still that occasional pup that gets so very sick. Thank goodness I had “Sox,” who would love to curl up in their cages and nurse them back to health.

  So, don’t ever underestimate the power of “Love” (or “Bug”).

  Section Two:

  “Littleness” in Action

  I love dogs. I mean, I really love dogs. As I mentioned, I’m what’s termed a “neonatal veterinarian.” I seemed to know that I wanted to be a vet while I was still in the womb. I’ve treated literally thousands of dogs—and found hundreds upon hundreds of them new homes.

  Yet I can say with surety that little dogs have a completely different way of looking at the world than larger dogs, and certainly they interact within that world very differently. They really do spend most of their time trying to bend the world to their whims.

  Most of our little guys are constantly trying to figure out how to get more pettings, more treats, and more love. Or if they don’t get it, how to most effectively punish you for not giving it to them.

  Sure, there are some super-sweeties who never consider holding their love hostage to get an extra ten minutes of play before bedtime, but my experience talking with thousands of pet owners tells me those docile babies are the exception rather than the rule.

  And that is why we love them so much. These little guys are so interactive. Because they are constantly scheming for affection, love, and rewards, they are such a delight.

  Tales from the Tea Cup:

  “Chief” – My Littleness Guru

  A personal example. “Chief,” (Again, I should have been more careful in naming him.) my two-pound, three-legged Chihuahua, hates “down world.”

  He prefers “up world.” Up in my lap. Up on the bed. Up on the couch. Anywhere that is up and soft and cozy is his strong preference.

  Now, “down world,” (as in down on the ground, down on the floor, down on the cement) is awful. The firmness offends him. As I said, he hates it.

  So, every morning he is absolutely positive that I can’t “make” him go outside (he likes to sleep in under his pink, plush blanket until noon. Thanks for asking).

  Therefore, every morning, when I try to put him out to go to the bathroom before I go to work, he moans, he won’t kiss me, he squirms—trying anything and everything to convince me not to make him go outside on the evil, evil ground.

  There is a very clear “you can’t make me, you can’t make me” in all of his actions.

  And every morning, when I finally set him down on the ground, he has a “shoot, darn it” moment. He really thought, on this morning of all mornings, that his tantrum would work.

  Then the rest of the pack comes back (they, being good dogs, had already run out into the yard to take care of their potty needs) and comforts him. He then shakes off his disappointment and trots out with the rest of the pack.

  This happens EVERY morning. Every single one. He is undeterred by his past failures. He is absolutely sure that today will be his final victory.

  That is the “Littleness” temperament in a nutshell. It is that perfect blend of stubbornness, optimism, and conniving cuteness that makes us their willing servants.

  But of course, there is a cost to this extra dose of adorableness, which is usually paid for during training.

  If a Shih Tzu doesn’t want to sit, she isn’t going to sit. Period. End of statement. If a Border Terrier doesn’t want to eat his kibble, he’s not going to eat his kibble. Period.

  Or so they think. Just as “Chief” is convinced that he will someday be able to sleep in ’til noon when I have to be at work at 8:00 a.m., there are ways around their stubbornness. Unfortunately for us, this requires guile and lots of patience.

  Tales from the Tea Cup:

  “Kippy” and His Spreadsheet

  Kids and puppies. They seem like such a natural combination, right? However, having that child take care of the puppy can be a little more problematic.

  I normally recommend that a child be at least over thirteen years old before he or she is the primary caregiver for a dog, let alone a puppy. For puppies, I usually recommend that a child be at least fifteen years old.

  Of course, there are exceptions to this rule. I remember one nine-year-old girl who assured me that she had the “right stuff” and would be able to take care of a tiny, one-pound puppy (she was willing to spend her entire summer vacation on the project).

  I might have scoffed, but she brought in a printout (in Excel, no less) of the theoretical puppy’s schedule that she had worked out. She had even calculated the number of calories that the puppy would need to eat per day (which even I had to check by going back into my office and pulling out a reference book).

  I figured that I could take a chance on a fellow neonatal
veterinarian in the making, and gave her mom the thumbs-up to get that young girl a puppy.

  Needless to say, she warranted my trust. It was she who insisted that “Kippy” be brought in for an ear infection. The nine-year-old noticed “Kippy’s” torn nail.

  But, most importantly, she noticed a tiny bruise on the puppy’s ear. Most adults—heck, even I—might have chalked that up to a play injury, but my client’s daughter was concerned, since “Kippy” came from a farm environment and may have been exposed to rat bait.

  Sure enough, the pup did have a prolonged bleeding time, and we promptly treated “Kippy” with the antidote. Her acute observation had saved “Kippy’s” life!

  Just as puppies can surprise you, so can kids!

  But the story doesn’t end there. Several years later, a frantic “Kippy” woke the girl. Even though she was groggy and tired, she trusted “Kippy’s” instincts and roused the whole house. Everyone was groggy. They got out of the house and realized that they were being poisoned by carbon monoxide. Their furnace had sprung a leak.

  “Kippy” returned the favor to his mistress by saving the whole family!

  “Kippy” and his mistress went on to live a happy life. When his owner went away to college, so did “Kippy”!

  Somehow, this bright, intelligent girl convinced her dorm to take him!

  My guess? She had an extensive spreadsheet!

  Tales from the Tea Cup:

  “Lady Bug”

  Not So Sure About This Whole “Family Thing”

  This is a really personal story, because “Lady Bug” was my first experience with a little dog. I only took her because no one else would. She had been found as a stray, beaten up in a dogfight.

  Given how thin she was, she had been on the street for a while, and she wasn’t exactly the cuddly type. She was so refractory to human touch that the clinic I was working for decided that she was too dangerous to treat. The staff was going to send her to the shelter.

  Even though she tried to bite me every time I touched her, I couldn’t let her go to the shelter (where she would never survive), because every once in a while I could see in her eyes a desire to connect.

  She hesitated slightly before she struck, like a cobra.

  Now, even though I had never had small dogs before, I had hand-tamed feral cats, so I knew a thing or two about patience. I brought “Lady Bug” home, and she immediately ran under the bed and wouldn’t come out. It took the rest of my dogs to coax her out from under there.

  Then, over the next few days, I ignored her. Well, actually, I just didn’t look in her direction, but I talked to her. On and on. About this and that. About how much fun it was to get pets and kisses if she would just trust me.

  My boyfriend at the time thought I was insane. But about three days later, I was on the floor playing with the dogs when I felt a new tongue on my cheek. “Lady Bug” had snuck in a kiss! It was all good from there. Pretty soon, she was my little lapdog (fighting my cat for the privilege).

  A few weeks after that, a technician from the hospital where I worked came over for dinner. After “Lady Bug” showered her with kisses, my friend asked, “When did you get a new dog?” I tilted my head. “Um, you were there when I took her home,” I said.

  This veterinary professional was shocked that “Lady Bug” could be the same dog! She had gone from land shark to a kissing machine.

  And “Lady Bug’s” magic didn’t end there. A few months later, we had a severe thunderstorm, and a drenched and terrified black Chihuahua ended up on the clinic’s doorstep.

  The technician and I were standing outside the poor baby’s cage (no microchip, no collar, no tags, and no family to be found) as it huddled in the corner, growling at us.

  My friend turned to me. “Remind me again—how did you tame ‘Lady Bug’?”

  After a few weeks of letting the Chihuahua find his place in the house, “Thunder” went on to have a great life at my friend’s home.

  Mind you, both “Thunder” and “Lady Bug” are lessons in advanced “Littleness,” not to be taken on by the inexperienced or faint of heart. Both of those stories exemplify how much patience can pay off.

  Tales from the Tea Cup:

  “Sophie,” “Popcorn,” and “Cocoa Puff” – Handing over the Torch

  “Littleness” has the most amazing way of healing hearts and bringing families together.

  I have to let you know, though, that this one has a bit of a poignancy alert! Get the tissues ready!

  One of my favorite examples of the amazing journey that “Littleness” can take us on is the story regarding the sixteen-year-old daughter of one of my best clients.

  After losing their cherished Bichon Frise, “Sophia,” my client kind of lost her heart and her will to have a new puppy. They had two other older Bichon crosses, and my client was perfectly happy to keep it that way. But her teenage daughter had other plans.

  While she was still grieving the loss of “Sophia,” she wanted to have that strong of a bond to a pet of her very own. She wanted to find just the right dog that she could take to college with her in a few years. A small dog. A Chihuahua.

  Let’s just say that this girl did her research. Scoured the Internet. Went to shelters. Contacted rescue organizations. But none had just the right pet. At that point, she looked into local breeders—and even a pet store or two. And bless her heart, she kept to her principles and did not snatch up the first cutie she saw.

  We had talked at length, and she knew what she wanted. She knew the type of spark that should happen, and she wasn’t going to bring home a dog until she felt it. Her mother had spoken frequently of the first time she had ever met “Sophia.”

  After a few months, she became discouraged. I reassured her that it is normally in those moments when the magic happens.

  Of course, she didn’t believe me until the next day.

  She had gone over to a friend’s house to study for a chemistry test when they heard some yipping.

  She felt the spark even before she saw the puppy. She knew that this was the pup for her. Just that single sound convinced her. She rushed over to the neighbor’s house to find the tiniest fluff ball fussing and whining.

  Somehow, the neighbors had found this little baby under their house. They asked around the neighborhood, but no owner was found. No one knew how the pup had gotten there, but there he was—just waiting for my client to come and find him.

  Needless to say, she forgot all about the chemistry test and raced home with her new puppy, “Popcorn.”

  Who knows what breed “Popcorn” is. Maybe some Chihuahua. Maybe some Terrier. Maybe some Maltese. “Popcorn” might be a Heinz 57, but he’s 100-percent cute.

  While he didn’t look exactly like what she thought he would, her heart was open to see that “Popcorn” was exactly the dog she wanted. He was playful and friendly, yet a really kind and gentle little dog.

  And the perfect patient (always a bonus for me).

  “Popcorn” even opened the heart of the girl’s mom again. She confided to me that she really thought she was done with dogs. She was just waiting for her older pets to pass away until she could travel unencumbered.

  Well, “Popcorn” changed all that. Six months before her daughter—and “Popcorn,” of course—were to leave for college, the family came in to seek my advice on getting another puppy to replace the departing “Popcorn.”

  I reminded her mother of her vow to never adopt another dog, and we all laughed. How silly that sounded now. No, now they were looking for something tiny for the mom. Some little munchkin that could travel all over with her. Of course, they were hoping for a carbon copy of “Popcorn.”

  I told them the story of the pup that had been relinquished to me that very day. She had been “rescued” from the pound (not much of a rescue if you are just going to take them back, but that’s another story) and had come down with a skin parasite. She looked ratty and mangy. She wasn’t the right color. She wasn’t the right age. She w
asn’t the right breed.

  There was nothing right about this little abandoned puppy, except that she was exactly right for this family. Before I could even get all the negatives about this puppy out of my mouth, the mom said, “I have to see her.”

  I reminded her that besides swearing off dogs forever, she had double-sworn off “project” dogs. She had always been the type to want a fairly low-maintenance dog.