I brought Betsy home on July 15, 2008 to be a companion to Daisy. She was about 10 years old then. We called that date "Betsy's Day" and each year afterward celebrated it as her birthday. She was the most precious little thing and we had such good times together. She loved to go for rides. I remember looking over as I was driving and Betsy was standing up on Daisy looking out the window. Daisy didn't care. Sunday mornings she went with my husband to get a paper. He was sure she knew what day it was because she was always ready to go before he was, leading him to the door. She loved the grandkids and they loved her.
 
Then just before Christmas 2011 she showed the first signs of canine cognitive dysfunction syndrome - dementia. She would wake in the night and coming running up to me, happy as she could be and ready to get up. She had always been such a good sleeper. After a couple nights of that, I took her in to have my vet check her and he found nothing wrong to explain it. She seemed much the same otherwise. She had arthritis and already was on a med for that but life was still good.
 
Because of the arthritis, the walks had become shorter but she had still wanted to go. We carried her up and down the garage steps to go out/in. Then at some point she started to became lost or to get stuck in corners in the house so we kept her in 2 rooms unless we went with her. The waking at night became more frequent and she paced, both day and night. Prescriptions and OTC meds to help for sleep had limited success. I had my vet on speed dial. She still ate well but periodically would refuse a food she had been eating so I became creative finding foods she would eat. She wanted nothing to do with dog beds but laid under the kitchen table instead from the first day she was here. As the dementia progressed she stopped doing that. I made a soft bed on the floor in the kitchen for her and she started sleeping there during the day, many times with her pal Daisy beside her. She slept more and more during the day.
 
She stopped barking, stopped responding to her name, stopped wanting to play or walk, stopped being able to eat her beloved Greenies or the carrots that she loved. She lost everything, ever so gradually. The one thing she remembered to the end was going into the living room in the evening. She would still go over and put her little nose against the gate and wait. In good times she sat with me on the sofa while I read or watched TV. Later she would pace and then lay down on a fluffy blanket on the floor and sleep. The last few weeks that's where she and I slept. I no longer even tried to take her to the big bed. When she slept I slept what I could on the sofa. When she woke I took her out and then she paced until she slept again. 
 
My long time vet left and I had to depend on a new one, which literally brought me to my knees. Lab work done on her not so very long before she died showed her kidneys, liver, glucose levels still okay. But before the end she started drinking more and more and the newer vet believed her kidneys were failing. She was so weak and thin that we could not go on. She died on February 11, 2013. 
 
Ronald  Reagan said many years ago after his diagnosis of dementia that it was "the long goodbye". Even though we went through it for more than a year with her and I knew how it would end, my heart is broken. I tried so hard to keep her comfortable and loved her so much. We were blessed to have found her at DDR.  

I adopted my very first dog in 2006—a 9-year-old Pekinese named Scooter (also known with great affectionately as Beastie Boy).  I purposefully looked for a senior dog because I could see how many of them weren’t adopted.  I couldn’t bear to think of a senior dog ending up alone in a shelter after being a faithful companion to someone for so many years.  Scooter was the light of my life!  He quickly captured the hearts of everyone he met.  He had such a spunky little personality.  He never tired of chasing squeaky balls and going to the dog park.  I learned to read his mind—although that came with time.  I suspect he actually played me like a harp and that he was much smarter than I was.  But he let me think I was in charge.  But all dogs should be treated like a king—and Scooter certainly was.  I had Scooter for six wonderful years.  He brought me much joy and taught me so much about unconditional love.

After Scooter passed away, I soon found the house way too quiet and missed the companionship I had come to cherish with Scooter.  My cousin had always talked about how wonderful their beloved little dachshund, Artie, was.  So I looked for a local rescue group, found Dakota Dachshund, and looked for another senior.  I was immediately drawn to 12-year-old Sparks.  I knew I had found my next companion.  Let me tell you, dachshunds are SO funny and sweet!  He is very affectionate and loves to cuddle.  He is always ready to “g-o” in the “c-a-r” and leaves little nose prints on my car windows.  He has selected the center of my bed as “his spot” so we often need to have a little talk about that.  He cocks his head, wags his tail, and briefly moves over a bit.  However, soon he is back where he started and I’m on the edge of the bed.  Our little beasts ask for so little.  It’s hard not to give them whatever they want.

Having acquired mind-reading abilities with my first dog, Scooter, I soon knew that Sparks wanted a companion.  Back to Dakota Dachshund I went where I found 12-year-old Nigel on their website.  In fact, Nigel and Sparks had been fostered together.  A perfect pairing!  However, when I picked Nigel up from his foster mom, he was not what I had expected.  He moved very slowly—clearly suffering from arthritis.  I came to find that Nigel was deaf and the vet confirmed that he had very limited vision due to cataracts.  I had simply assumed that all 12-year-old dogs would be quite spry like Sparks. 

Well, Nigel wasn’t spry but he was the most loving dog I had ever seen.  He was just a complete love bug.  And how he loved being held!  That was our routine every day.  After he went outside, he would come back in and wait patiently until I picked him up.  As we rocked, he would rest his head against my shoulder and watch me talk to him.  And, he was quite a talker in his own way, too.  He didn’t bark but he made noises in his throat—much like a human does when stretching or shifting positions.  When he was restless at night, I had only to put my hand on him and he settled right down.  He was such a happy and content little guy despite his physical condition. 

Nigel passed away less than three months later.  It was devastating to lose him, but I had known from the beginning that his body had suffered from age.  He needed me and it was an honor to take care of him and love him and make his days happy.  My bond with this extraordinary little dog was very deep.  Nigel filled me with so much love, that my heart grew even larger than I realized was possible. 

Nigel was not what I expected, but he was exactly what I needed.  We will all remember him forever.  Rest in peace, sweet Nigel.

Priscilla ( 2008-2010) Miss Priscilla Graydog lived a short but happy four months with her adopted brother Hans and her adoptive parents Pat and Nancy after she had been saved by DDR from a potential life of servitude in a puppy mill. Having been fostered by DDR, Priscilla quickly became a true companion doxie upon her adoption. She loved snuggling in our laps and cuddling with Hans or grabbing his favorite chew toy and claiming it as her own. Of course Hans deferred to the little lady. In her brief time with us, she enjoyed several summer trips to the cabin, eagerly settling into her pet taxi for the ride to Wisconsin and just as eagerly again to return home. She loved going anywhere with her humans. The sudden onset of her disk problem was unexpected and could not be resolved. Dr. Jenny’s consultation with the other vets at All City indicated the prognosis was grim. Letting that little girl go was the hardest task Pat and I have ever done, but we know she is at the rainbow bridge. She was unique: her coloring, her coat, her manner. She lives on in our memories.

You came to us after your beloved "Guardian Mom" passed away in June, 2009. Although your time with us was fleeting, we were reminded again of the true meaning of unconditional everlasting love. Your eyes asked only one question:" What happened to the "One" I loved? Endlessly you walked through the house, looking & hoping to hear "Her" voice or see "Her" face. Hours spent watching the street and waiting ; listening for "Her" footsteps on the path, "Her" gentle touch and know "Her" Love once again. Finally, you would curl up next to me on the couch snuggled under the blue blanket and nap; only to awaken and begin your search again. Silently, like a ghost, you became my constant shadow, your eyes asking only the ONE question: "Where is She"? "Can you help me find "Her?" Taking you in my arms was the only comfort I could offer. At night, you cried out in you sleep; sitting by your bed I stroked those nearly bald ears. Summer changed into fall and I sensed that you had grown weary of waiting for "Her" and had given up! Your vision dimmed and hearing muted, your daily piece of chesse and snuggles on the couch became our life together. As fall faded into winter, I knew our time together was growing shorter. I began a new nightly ritual of bringing you up big bed along with your "Foster Dachsie Pals". Maybe you wouldn't leave if I kept you close. No longer feeling alone in the inky darkness, you would drift off to sleep. Then, on the cold dark winter morning you said "Good Morning" to Foster Mom Diane and minutes later, with your customary grace and dignity, quietly slipped away from us. Rest Well...my long legged senior dachsie gent. Now your search is over. 12/10/09 Foster Dad Bob, Foster Mom Diane and All theVolunteers at DDR.