On Adopting a Senior Dog- Barbara Taylor

Senior Adoptee Buddy Holly

I have to admit that when we were told about Buddy Holly, age 14, we did have second thoughts. After all, at that age, how long would we have him with us?

My husband and I have been “owned” by dachshunds for our entire 36 plus-year marriage. I came to our marriage already having been “dachshund owned” for many years before. However, all Buddy's predecessors did start out as babies. The longest-lived was our dear girl, Gudrun, whom we brought home at just under 8 weeks, and left us for the Rainbow Bridge at age 15 ½. Buddy was definitely our first “senior person”.

Of course, we also got many of the all too usual comments and questions: Why would you want to adopt a dog that might die any day? At that age, they're already half-dead anyway. He'll only break your heart? Then there was the one from my late brother, a herpetologist: Well, at least he's the right size to make a snack for a python. Surely, at that age, he wouldn't live long enough for much more.

Before I go on, I should describe Buddy Holly. He is a “tweenie” dachshund, now tipping the scales at a thunderous 14 pounds. He is a light brown (in dachshunds, for some strange reason, they still call this “red”), with HUGE eyes, and just about the softest coat you could imagine. Nothing – absolutely NOTHING could said about his being “elegant”. As for adorable? If there was ever a line to stand in for “cuteness”, Buddy must have managed to get into it several times. That is what made us fall in love with the picture his foster mom so craftily sent us. I could almost feel him in my arms just from that picture! Never mind that he was “old”, we fell in love from just that picture! Still, we did then ask ourselves “HOW could two other homes give him up?” Darned if we knew – or know NOW!

In the now, over two years since we have been so privileged to have Buddy Holly in our lives, he has truly taught us a lot! Love is NEVER “used up”. Character only improves with experience, the soul does not age, and every day must be made to GLOW! Of course, it should with every beloved 4-legged companion, but with Buddy, it does anyway! Buddy never ceases to surprise us.

Through all the years I have shared with dachshunds it has become obvious that the more character a dear person has, the more the funny love-names they get given. It didn't take Buddy long to start acquiring his full share.

When he discovered the delight of exploring our very shady and Hosta-filled garden, he became “Mr. Fierce Woodland Spirit”. Oh the many times I've seen those huge eyes of his peering out from those leaves at me. Fact that he started wanting to begin his “explorations” at 3:00 a.m. was no bother to him. Knowing that his life hadn't been the happiest life before God brought us together, I just didn't have the heart to say, “no”. His very strong sense of who he was, what HE wanted, and what he was NOT willing to tolerate got him dubbed “The Tiny Tyrant”. He still is. “Mr. Prissy Butt”, is yet another favorite. Those into whose lives has come can well appreciate his “unique” way of moving.

He does put up with a lot. He keeps company with 4 other dachshund people ranging in age from not quite 2 years to our special other senior guy, Trooper, whom I saw born. He, together with our other “rescue”, also “senior-ish” guy, Dinkum, are the only “little people” (in the physical sense only). All the others are large standards. This doesn't phase Buddy in the least. In the couple of times when Buddy has had to stay overnight at the vet's, the house still seems so empty without him. He fills it that much!

I do have to say here, that Buddy is not without his “foibles”: FEET! Buddy does NOT like his feet fussed with. This occasioned yet another name when we had to treat a sore he did develop on a paw pad earlier this year: “Mr Godzilla”. While we were protecting his bandage, from getting wet, we figured out that putting a small baggie over the affected foot was definitely a 2-human operation. After graduating from the baggie, his paw pad still needed “daubing” in some antibiotic “stuff”. It was DEFINITELY a 2-human operation.

So why do I continue to praise “senior dogs”? I've given some of the reasons already, but there are more. Nothing, but NOTHING says that being “mature” does not make them undeserving or unworthy of the best years one could have every chance to give them. Neither does being “old” mean that they are incapable of loving with the same intensity, and with a lot more sincerity than a puppy. Chances are, they have already had more than their share of experiences, both good and bad, and so they are going to know the difference. They are already persons, they know WHO they are, so their love will be given with reason. Being “old” does NOT mean, “too old” – to give and receive love, to have a good time, to appreciate the “good stuff”, to have huge souls that only GROW with experience.

Yes, senior people do come with the potential of more health problems than a younger dog. This is a necessary realization. For that matter, so do senior humans. By the same token, many a younger dog is immune to them either. Mr. Holly (Good Golly Mr. Holly – yes that gets said a lot, too), sleeps more; in the mornings he and I “compete” as to who is stiffer. Arthritis is his biggest “issue” – mine, too. We both know when the weather going to change, and we both take some time to loosen up. After that, though, if Buddy is sufficiently annoyed at what he sees happening on the others side of “his” fence, this sure doesn't stop him charging across the lawn to make HIS disapproval known!

As I sit here, I know there is no way that I can know how much longer God will let us have him here. Just now, it seems both very far in the future and always in the background. Just now, Buddy either refuses to “read” how he is SUPPOSED to be at his years, or he considers the subject to be beneath his notice. Just now, Buddy is both totally loveable, and totally deserving of as much love as we are capable of giving. Just now, God gave us the chance to be the “best home” he has always so richly deserved, saved for last. So, I have written not only about Mr. Buddy Holly but about ALL senior dogs. They ALL deserve not only what we can give them; they also deserve the chance to show US all THEY can give US!

In closing, I feel that in fairness to my dear brother, he did become a convert. The comments about “python food” soon stopped as my tales of Buddy's latest exploits continued. In the last time I spoke to my brother, he asked about him particularly. I lost my brother on June 7 th this year. I can just see the scene at The Rainbow Bridge: Buddy running up to my brother saying, “See! Fooled you, didn't I?”