Pups in Tea Cups: Tales of Littleness Overcoming BIG Odds Page 3

  But “Popcorn” had changed that, too. Mom had seen the magic that can happen when you open your heart, and she was willing to take the risk.

  Well, I brought that little, pathetic, black, terrier-coated, scruffy-looking pup out, and it was love at first sight. She was named “Cocoa Puff” on the spot.

  Besides being a great double-adoption story, “Cocoa Puff’s” tale became a really touching bonding story between mother and soon-to-be-leaving-the-nest daughter. They spent the next six months together nursing “Cocoa Puff” back to health.

  Still, to this day, years later (the daughter is now all grown up and married), they still come in and fondly remember their adventure together—both saying it was the best summer of her childhood.

  Tales from the Tea Cup:

  “Zeppo”: Kid-Friendly? Not So Much.

  I must say that I love it when a Tale from the Tea Cup is not just inspirational, but also educational.

  I use this one all the time to reinforce how important it is to make sure that you pick the RIGHT little dog.

  Read on to see what I mean…

  A client wanted to get a puppy for her toddler. I, of course, advised her about how each animal is an individual, and how careful you must be in selecting your new family member. I went into great detail about how young puppies are sometimes nippy, especially around young children—who tend to put their hands, and even faces, where they might not belong.

  But then she got busy and excited and ended up buying a Shih Tzu puppy from a pet store. She got the little munchkin home, put the pup in her young son’s arms, and the puppy bit his nose!

  The poor kid was screaming and terrified. The pup? The pup was fine. He had made his point.

  On their way back from the emergency room, they brought the pup in to my clinic to make sure that he didn’t have rabies (always something neurological rather than just “Littleness” in action) and discuss how to proceed.

  After getting a more thorough history (the pup had slunk back when the mom first went to get the pup out of the cage at the pet store, and even growled a little when petted the wrong way), and seeing the toddler absolutely freaked-out by the puppy, we decided to find the pup a new home.

  Just as adults and children are individuals, so are puppies. Everyone involved in the pup’s life should be introduced to the pup before bringing him home to make sure everyone can get along.

  In this case, luckily, I had another client who had recently lost his dog after losing his wife a short time ago. Everything seemed okay on the outside. He would frequently come in to return medications or to check on a friend’s dog.

  What none of us knew was that when he wasn’t at the clinic, he was at home in a deep depression. His daughter and doctor were worried about his mental state.

  I, knowing none of this, called him up and asked if he would like to see the puppy. He told me that his daughter didn’t want him to get another dog. I asked him what he wanted.

  He showed up at the clinic ten minutes later. It was love at first sight. Since he had given away all the items from his last dog, we made sure to get him everything he would need until he could go to the store.

  Well, the next day, his daughter showed up at the clinic and gave me a piece of her mind. She was quite upset that I had “dumped” a puppy on her father. I tried to explain that I had only offered the puppy to him since he seemed in need of a companion, and of course, if it didn’t work out, I would find a new home for “Zeppo.”

  Let’s just say that was not enough for her, and she stormed out.

  I tried to call my client, but he didn’t answer.

  I shouldn’t have worried, though. Two hours later, father and daughter came into the hospital. He showed off all the sweaters he’d bought “Zeppo,” and she apologized.

  Her dad was his spry old self. He hadn’t answered his phone because he was out buying the sweaters. He then came home to wash the dishes, do some laundry, and get the house “nice” for the puppy.

  Yep. Another story of “Littleness” in action!

  As a side note, the poor toddler took a little longer to get over his aversion to little dogs with very sharp teeth, but eventually the family adopted a two-year-old, super-mellow Australian Shepherd cross that fit their lifestyle just perfectly.

  Tales from the Tea Cup:

  “D.O.G.” – The Doggie that Defined My Career

  And before we get into the story, I know “D.O.G.’s” parents would want me to tell you that her name is pronounced “D-O-Gee,” NOT Dog!

  You see, they found her on the front steps one morning as a tiny puppy. No one else was around. No neighbors with Shih Tzus. Just a “D.O.G.” on the front porch. She got her name because my clients had a toddler, and they would spell “D.O.G.” in front of him so that he wouldn’t get too attached. Then, when they decided to keep her, he shouted out, “Yay! We get to keep ‘D.O.G.’!”

  And she was the cutest, sweetest dog in the universe. She would run right up to you, wagging her tail...“Hi, I’m ‘D.O.G.’, and I love you.” Then she would plant a kiss on your nose.

  But back to my career. I mean, I knew I wanted to be a vet. They call people like me “neonatal veterinarians,” since we pretty much knew in the womb that we wanted to treat animals.

  There are those teenage years when your mind wanders and you start looking at other options. Not very seriously, of course, but still, you are a teen, ya know?

  It was during one of these periods when tragedy struck “D.O.G.” Her mommy was holding her in her arms when a Labrador (yes, a Lab, as shocking as that is) jumped up and attacked poor “D.O.G.”!

  I won’t go into the details, but “D.O.G.” was horribly injured. Mommy ran her in, and we promptly did surgery. But let me tell you, there were complications. We were not at all sure that “D.O.G.” was going to make it.

  While she was recovering from anesthesia, I held “D.O.G.” in my arms and prayed as hard as I could that she would make it.

  Still groggy, and in so much pain that I can’t imagine, “D.O.G.” looked up and said with her eyes, “I’m ‘D.O.G.’, and I love you.” Then she kissed me.

  Whatever doubts I may have had about my career evaporated. I knew in that singular moment that I wanted to be just like my mentor. I wanted to be the person whom mommies and daddies ran to when everything seemed lost, and, at the very least, try to save their precious babies.

  “D.O.G.” did great. She never looked back from that surgery and recovered faster than any of us could have guessed. She wasn’t even afraid of Labradors!

  So thank you, “D.O.G.,” for making sure that I stayed the course. I hope I have lived up to both my mentor’s—and your—standards.

  Tales from the Tea Cup:

  “Daisy” and “Lulu” – Unlikely Friends

  To tell the tale of “Daisy” and “Lulu,” first we must tell the tale of their mother. She’d had a Maltese as a little girl. She loved Maltese. She knew deep down that she wanted a Maltese after her Golden Retriever passed away. Actually, it was really the “family” dog that they had gotten for the kids—who had since moved on to college.

  I encouraged her to look into rescue groups, shelters, and humane societies in her search for a Maltese. I gave her some advice about what to look for in a healthy Maltese and sent her on her journey.

  Imagine my surprise when she showed up for her next appointment with an older Basset Hound cross.

  Now, my background is in humane work, so I commend anyone who adopts an older pet. I also realize that many people have an idea of what they want, then fall in love at first sight with a completely different type of pet, and live happily ever after.

  However, I do see the other side of the coin. People who know what they want, and then get “talked” into something else. I don’t blame the local humane society for encouraging an older pet adoption, but I’m never a fan of leveraging guilt to encourage adoptions.

  Not knowing into which category my client fell, I examined “D
aisy” and found that she had some pretty dirty teeth and a small mammary nodule.

  At this point, “Daisy’s” mom burst into tears. I backtracked, trying to reassure her that I felt we could make sure that “Daisy” had a long, healthy, and happy life. But the tears were not about her fears of breast cancer. “Daisy” just wasn’t the dog she had dreamed of, and she felt guilty for feeling disappointed.

  Being an empty nester, “Daisy’s” mom had wanted something small and energetic. A bright spirit to wake up to in the morning. A little darling to take to the dog park (“Daisy” wasn’t that into long walks, or other dogs, for that matter). While she loved “Daisy” greatly and felt proud for saving her from certain death, she still felt deeply disappointed that she would not have that “spark” she so craved.

  I reassured her that she had no reason to feel guilty. Bringing a dog into our lives is no less important or complicated than bringing a new person into our household. Personalities need to mesh.

  We had a long conversation about her hopes and dreams and wishes regarding her canine companion. It became crystal clear that only a bright, gregarious small-breed dog would fulfill her need (preferably one with fluffy hair).

  Almost embarrassed, she also related to me that she hadn’t had a puppy in decades, and, given her age, she might not have the energy to have one again. We discussed that, at that time of year, there were very few puppies of any breed, let alone a little one, up for adoption.

  Now, you have to remember, I come from a long history of humane work. I ran the largest no-kill shelter in Oregon for years.

  Since there was no way in heck that “Daisy” was going back to the pound, it nearly hurt me to say it. But I took a deep breath and recommended that she go buy a puppy. She was floored. She knew my history. We talked often of how many dogs died in the pound system, but there I was, recommending that she research a breeder and get the puppy of her dreams.

  You see, despite my passion for rescue, I am also devoted to lifelong placements. Building a family that can stand the test of time—where both dog and person should be happy.

  To me, “Daisy’s” mom had “given at the office.” She had done her duty and rescued a dog from certain death. It was her turn to be rewarded. I reassured her that her good karma would be intact.

  For people who aren’t in the position to have a second adopted pet, I recommend that they donate an amount equal to the purchase price of a pet to a humane organization to keep their karma on the good side.

  “Daisy’s” mom did both. She found the cutest-of-the-cute Morkie (Maltese and Yorkie cross) and named her “Lulu.”

  Now, for all those worried about “Daisy’s” lump, it turned out to be completely benign, and her teeth were made squeaky clean. Even better, “Lulu” fell in love with “Daisy,” following her everywhere, learning about the doggie door and where the water bowls were. It is so awesome to have an older dog assist in puppy training.

  My client began playing bridge again. She started taking sculpting classes. She made friends at the dog park. She began a company knitting specialty sweaters for little dogs.

  Instead of heading into retirement head down, just marking time, my client had a whole new and bright chapter in her life opened up by “Daisy,” and especially “Lulu.” Actually, for the entire family.

  To complete the story, not only did “Lulu” brighten my client’s life, but “Daisy’s” as well. “Lulu” reminded “Daisy” of how much fun it was to get up in the morning and play.

  That’s what makes me tear up each time I tell this story. “Lulu” couldn’t help that she was born to privilege. She was just a puppy looking to spread joy, and joy she did spread! Well, to be fair, she also ate a diamond earring and tore up a hand-stitched pillow, but that’s what you expect with “Littleness.”

  When making an important decision, such as welcoming a new four-legged family member home, we have to put guilt and political correctness aside.

  We have to open our hearts and listen to our hopes and dreams. We have to look at the wide range of expectations and wishes, and then we need to go out and do our search with an equally open heart, being prepared for magic to happen.

  Tales from the Tea Cup:

  “Linus” the Troublemaker

  To pull this all together, let me share with you a personal story. I was in the market for a fifth dog. That fifth slot in my pack usually goes to a foster dog, which is always a breath of fresh air.

  I love my pack more than life itself, but they are a little …boring? Okay, not boring, but settled. They are smart and obedient and, well…they don’t really do anything bad.

  The two little ones would like to play, but they would never actually admit to liking to play. The two girls don’t really enjoy one another’s company, and my large male, “Orlin,” is the low-maintenance guy of the household. He just kind of rolls with the punches. Goes with the flow. Absolutely no drama there.

  But when a fifth dog that loves to play—especially a younger one—comes into the picture, it shakes things up. Games of “tag” spontaneously spring up, and there is much gaiety.

  It’s been a while since we’ve had a foster. I knew it was too long when the little ones started trying to play with me. I wouldn’t mind, except the only game they like to play is “the hand game.” That’s where they play tug-of-war with my fingers. Yeah, sometimes that gets painful.

  Now usually, that fifth dog comes along on its own. I’m a vet, after all, working in a vet hospital. Some little injured baby usually finds its way into my heart. But for some reason, nothing had come in.

  I began to think about going out and looking not just for a fifth foster dog, but a permanent addition to the pack. I needed something a little younger (but by no means a small puppy. I work nearly twelve-hour days), with lots of verve, who liked to play, and did I mention that I needed the newest to be a male (like I needed another female that the other two girls could ignore!)

  As much as I love Griffons, my favorite terrier (whose personality fits the above description to a T) is the Cairn. They are just so smart—and smart-alecky. I did as I advised and searched online, put out feelers, and waited.

  But nothing came. So I waited some more. All the while, I have two Chihuahuas who refuse to play with each other, but who insist that I play the “hand game” with them. That would be them grabbing hold of my hand and tugging on it. Now, I can tug back a little, but if I even dare to get close to winning, they throw a tantrum.

  So one afternoon, after having a Chihuahua on each hand and failing yet again to bring them together to play with each other, I decided that enough was enough. We needed a fifth dog!

  Out to three different shelters we went. So many dogs, but none with all the characteristics I needed. Some were super-sweet, but female. Others were playful and male, but too big. Remember, “Chief” is two pounds and has only three legs. Even a new dog accidentally falling on him could cause problems.

  We found a goat that I would have adopted in a heartbeat if I had a ranch. Some ducks and even a goose, but no puppy.

  I was about to give up. Maybe the universe was trying to tell me it wasn’t the time for a fifth dog—when we walked into the last local area shelter. Across four rows of kennels, I saw him. White and fluffy and adorable.

  He was wagging his tail, smiling at me (but not barking—always a good sign) from across the way. Love at first sight. As I hurried over to him, I worried that he was too perfect. With my motley crew of parvo survivors and three-legged wonders, how could I bring home a beautiful, fluffy poodle?

  I arrived at his cage, and he squirmed in sheer delight. Then, to my amazement, he turned around. He didn’t have a back foot! He was a cripple!

  That’s it! You’ve got to join the McCray brood! I thought. The helpful adoption coordinator was so busy trying to convince me that he could live a long and productive life that she didn’t hear the part about how I was a vet! After that got cleared up, “Linus” was mine. Again, be VERY careful
what you name your pet. Even though I named him “Linus” after a childhood lamb, he turned out to be more like the Peanuts character, Pigpen. Unfortunately, the puppy has taken this to heart, and a cloud of dust—of his own making—follows him around.

  While he wasn’t in the physical form I had hoped he would come in (a Cairn Terrier), his personality and verve were just what the doctor ordered!

  Section Three:

  Survival Instincts?

  Not So Much!

  You would think that if you were hungry, you would eat. If you were small, you would be careful. If you were thirsty, you would drink. You know, especially when you are little. And weigh barely more than a thimble.

  Think again. Our little guys make it nearly an art to try to endanger themselves. From risk-taking (some think they are mini-mountain goats) to hunger strikes, tea cup pups have done it all.