Dementia Dog Dachshund

Because this is our second dog to develop dementia, we saw the signs much earlier with Charlie and quickly accommodated for this development.  All three slept in the room with us now:  Abby on guard, Chase soundly sleeping the night away and Charlie contained in a crate for his safety and our sanity.

On a particular night, the Englishman decided that he wouldn't close the crate because Charlie didn't appear to be wandering anymore.  I wasn't sure how he came to this conclusion since the mere fact that locking the crate kept Charlie from wandering, but I digress...

At 3 AM, Charlie exited the crate and bumped blindly into Abby's bed.  Charlie growled and snapped.  Abby shrieked her ungodly high pitched ear splitting, crystal breaking scream which woke up the entire neighborhood with the exception of the Englishman.  I fumbled out of bed and felt my way to Abby.  Charlie then walked into a wall and growled and attacked this new offense.  I located Charlie by his growls and barks.  I reached out to touch his back and he lunged at me with his needle nose filled with shiny crocodile teeth.  I tried again before yelling at my husband to turn on a light before I lost a finger.  I did this in a most dignified manner.

Lights on, Chase snored, Abby whined and I was able to safely put Charlie back in his crate. I swear I could hear muffled laughter from my husband.

And this is why we don't release the dachshund until daylight.

Close to the Bone

The English boy helped me set up the Halloween decorations at the beginning of October.  All of the skeletons came back out of the closet for the season.  Because the work began much later in the day, it was dark before we finished.

The next morning, I put Abby on her leash for her morning walk from the front door to the end of the driveway.  Dawn had yet to break and a slight mist was clinging to the autumn grass.  Abby sniffed and snorted as she searched for the perfect spot.  Suddenly she froze.  A low growl began in her throat.  I searched the yard and street for the intruder:  deer?  rabbit?  jogger?  the evil cat from next door?  I saw nothing but Abby crouched and pulled me slowly across the yard toward the skeletons carrying a body bag.  As she stealthily approached, I was still doubtful that she thought these were the front yard intruders.  She cautiously touched her nose to a femur and rapidly jumped back as if bitten by a rattlesnake.  

It took a few days to convince Abby that there was no danger, but make no bones about it, these skeletons looked real enough to this guard dog of ours.