Oliver is Three Years Old! As he sleeps quietly at my feet this morning, I’m so thankful there’s been a sensible little dog hiding in there all this time. He just needed to grow into his paws. I needed to grow into mine, as well.
In the winter of 2019, I was pining for a dog. Not just any dog. THE DOG. The one that would be my last. A dog like those I’d seen when RVing that did all the cool things dogs do. Listen. Understand. Comfort. Sleep quietly at their owner’s feet. Greet guests politely. Just be a great dog in every way.
VST wasn’t a dog person, wanting no part of the requirements of responsible dog ownership. He wanted no extra responsibilities, added drama, or unexpected costs. He wanted none of that. He saw owning a dog as a negative drain on his life. Period.
In my world, nightly dreams brought an angel dog to tag along. Just a little guy, he’d show up and off we’d go. Each morning, I’d wake wishing that a dog would come into my life. VST didn’t waver. No dog.
Until one day.
Out of the blue, VST decided we should have one more dog. THE DOG. The cool one. He started an active search for our last dog, with ideas in mind of those that would be suitable or not. For a time, Oliver could have been a Yorkie. Why a burly man’s man would choose a dog the size of a postage stage is beyond me. Yorkies are perfect for Yorkie owners. I wanted something a little more substantial.
In truth, I’m a Mastiff gal. The bigger the better. Mastiffs watched our ranch for many years. Thoughtfully gentle, they were appropriately imposing when strangers stopped in. Pony sized, their deep bass barks shook the night at the slightest hint of intruders. VST would patiently lift two 40 pound bags of very expensive dog food into our Costco cart every two weeks. Our security team paid in kibble, we were never robbed.
These days, I’m older and weaker. No longer can I help the backside of a 200 pound dog into a truck bed, or hoist 40 pound bags of dogfood. Mastiffs have a very short life span and a puppy is so much work. VST and I agreed we’d like a dog that would be around for a decade+ after the potty-training ended. We fixed our sites on a small Dachshunds. It seemed the rest of California had done the same and all litters were promised or sold. No puppies were to be found.
Until the week of Christmas. Disappointed by multiple contacts to breeders who had “just sold the last one”, one more time, I Googled “dachshund puppy”. And there he was.
One picture says it all. Oliver was left over. He’d aged out. At 16 weeks, he’d been discounted 50%. A bargain puppy. The breeder would deliver him to our area on Christmas morning in the parking lot of a huge casino. At this point, VST was onboard. The Christmas gift to end all, he’d never need to buy me another present. Oliver was birthdays, Christmas, and the 4th of July all wrapped up in those little green eyes. Oliver was THE DOG.
Over the 2.5 years we’ve been together, there have been days we didn’t see eye to eye. Days he was sneaky and more days that he got caught. Lost hours of sleep, and correction after correction. As many senior citizens have exclaimed, “I’m not a puppy anymore.” Countless hours have gone into training ME to meet his standards. I’m finally the “Mom-oh” he loves. He’s always been the dog I waited a lifetime to meet.
Yesterday, he knew it was his special day. Extra couch cuddles and even popcorn for a treat. All the while, he waited quietly on his leash so I wouldn’t spill my coffee. He didn’t bark at visitors throughout the day. No nipping at garden emitters, or digging in the paths. Outside, he sunned himself and quietly watched the birds. He sat like a gentleman, waiting for his after dinner snack without a jump or wiggle.
At the end our our day, when asked if his was a good one, I’m sure I saw him smile right before his sleepy yawn.
“Yeah, Mom-oh. Time for bed.”
Sir Oliver, Gentleman of Ashworth Hall. One standard, wire-haired, cream, piebald dachshund from Song Catcher Dachshunds in Nevada City. One of a kind. Happy Birthday, Oliver. You know all my secrets. You’ll always be THE ONE.