A few year ago I got a dog. If I’m willing to relive my childhood pains, and I for sure always am, I must admit that I did not have good luck with pets growing up. That isn’t to say I didn’t have many of them; I grew up on a farm and there were a lot of dogs and cats to go with livestock. Still, animals that were designated as mine, or ones I picked personally, didn’t fare well. I lost two cats both named Mittens to our savage dalmatian. I got a puppy the same time my sister did and for some reason, Coco wasn’t allowed to stay and my parents got rid of her. Then for a birthday one year my parents let me pick out a new puppy, but then got rid of Taffy because the other dogs didn’t like her. My mom got me a new cat literally two months before I left for Army Basic Combat Training. It’s been difficult.
I for sure had a couple pets that survived and that I enjoyed but it seemed the ones I picked were doomed and only random ones ever made it. That’s until recently.
Nearly three years ago, my kids were bugging me about all of the dogs available at my mother-in-law’s house because she forever has a surplus of dogs around there who need homes. When I went to pick up my oldest child one time, she held up a dog named “Little Guy.” He looked like an oversized long-haired dachshund.
Confession: I’ve always wanted a dachshund. My grandparents were German immigrants and they always had dachshunds and german shepherds when I was growing up. I wanted a dachsie in the classic red color and I was going to name him Manfred von Richthofen, or “The Red Baron.” Yeah, I’m super nerdy.
Now, “Little Guy” wasn’t short-haired, or red, but was the classic black and tan color that Germans seem to love as most dogs from there seem to come with that pattern (Rottweilers, Dobermans, Dachshunds). He was however, adorable! I loved him immediately! And we took him home that day!
I’m totally in love with this dog. He was a little underfed when I got him, probably because he’s literally the most timid dog I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure who had him before or what they did to him, but he is terrified of everything and will pee on himself when he gets scared, which is constantly. Occasionally he acts tough but that’s always with the door locked and no one actually confronting him. He’s terrible at being a dog.
I renamed him Bilbo Baggins which totally suits him because he’s super lazy, does nothing all day, doesn’t do real dog things like play, but will cuddle endlessly. In fact, cuddling is all he’s really good at it and he does it non-stop.
Now he is totally spoiled. I carry him around with me, let him go with me in the car and even sit on my lap while I drive. He sits on the couch with me all the time and he’s always in some blankets or in his dog bed. The only thing I won’t tolerate is him sleeping in my bed. Otherwise he’s pampered to the max.
Bilbo is a very happy dog and only whines or complains when he feels he’s not getting enough attention. He gets massive amounts of attention. The kids adore him, especially my youngest, and they little boys are constantly holding him or laying with him. It’s Bilbo heaven here.
In spite of all the joy in his life, in spite of the comfort, the love, the endless food and protection from actual weather, his eye tears constantly.
No matter how much I love him, his body remembers the pain and the abandonment. I wipe it all the time but his eye still tears. It’s as if the wounds from his past will never be completely healed.
I don’t care though, and if anything, I’m glad because it reminds us both that he was hurt once but now he’s loved and I will forever be here to wipe away his tear.
If only we had someone to do the same for each of us.