Wednesday, April 14, 2010

sad day.

I got a call from my dad last night. I could tell when I answered the phone that the somber tone in his voice was going to be followed with some pretty bad news.
The sweet little miniature Dachshund, Leibchen, that he bought me as an early Christmas present when I was 16 lost her little bout with Pancreitis yesterday morning. I remember bringing her home, holding her in my lap and thinking I would never let go of her. She was so small that she could fit in my dad's hand and I loved her tiny little face so much I couldn't hardly stand it. I named her Leibchen after another weiner dog I had only seen in photos. When my dad was younger, he too had a weiner dog named Leibchen. Everyone always had nothing but amazing things to say about that dog and would always talk about how special she was. I knew that my dog was special too and so I named her after my dad's dog as a sort or tribute.
As she got older she developed a "mild" obsession with squeak toys and would use them to supplement her little bark at passers by. She would growl and holler as though she didn't realize she weighed 7 lbs, she must have thought she was a great dane or a saint bernard or something. Anyone walking by the house could hear a mean growl with interludes of yappy barking and high pitched squeaks (usually from her favorite rubber hamburger). She was funny like that.
But Leibchen had been ill for a little while, couldn't seem to keep food down, and had been really lethargic. Her poor little spirit was not as it had always been, tenacious, spunky and bossy.
She woke up early yesterday morning and made a trek down the long hallway to my dad's bedroom. She scratched on the door to wake him which was a little odd since she had barely left her bed in over a month. He picked up her tiny little body and brought her back to bed and that was where she stayed. I think it was her way of saying goodbye. She died there, wrapped up in the blanket my grandmother crocheted just for her. My dad buried her in that blanket in the garden in his backyard.
I'm going to miss her little face and her giant bug eyes. She was a special little dog.... and adorable to boot.

1 comment:

  1. I'm so sorry Kortnee. I can picture her bark/squeek. Such a funny image. You were a good dog mom.