In March of 2012 I was finally in an animal friendly apartment, and I knew I wanted a dog. Growing up, there was the dreaded "FISH ONLY" rule. So finally living somewhere that actually provided poop pick up bags and had a dog park in it just seemed like a sign that it was time. Plus lets be honest, I was kind of lonely.
So over the next few weeks Petfinder was my homepage. What kind of dog did I want? Male or female? Old or young? The only thing I did know was that I was rescuing a dog, whether from an actual rescue organization or a shelter. I wanted to give some dog a second shot.
I started out at the humane society. I bonded with a beagle named Doofy, who was as sweet as could be...and a little, well, doofy. I knew I had to think on it, and if he was the right dog for me. I arranged to come see him a few days later, and the day of I got a call from the humane society letting me know Doofy went to his forever home with a nice couple earlier in the day. Talk about mixed emotions. In the end, I was so happy Doofy was happy and not caged up anymore.
I went and met other dogs, not quite sure what I was looking for, not quite sure what I wasn't looking for. All of these dogs totally tugged at my heartstrings, but I wanted to make sure the right one came home to live with me. Who knew that picking out a dog would be such an ordeal? Oh wait, this is me. Of course it was an ordeal.
Then one day on Petfinder I stumbled across a little dachshund named Rudy. He was a cute little guy, located in Indiana. I thought it was hilarious he was from the Illinois Doberman Rescue (they have "plus" dogs as well). I drove out to Indiana to meet Rudy. I was really nervous all the way there, worried about finding another dog I'd feel bad for but not fit into my home.
I pulled in to a house with a fenced in back yard full of dachshunds! Okay there were only two, but I was still overwhelmed. When I looked at the two dachshunds in the yard I felt kind of sad, because I had that gut feeling they weren't what I was looking for. Then the foster mom opened the door with a little red dachshund barking away at her ankles. Come to find out, the two dachshunds out back were her own, Rudy was her only foster. I suddenly got really nervous and shy. Yes, me, shy. I was almost scared to touch Rudy a lot because I didn't want to hurt him or scare him.
Foster mom Elaine and I talked about his demeanor and habits, all the while I just kept staring at Rudy in awe. His back story was that he was given up by his original owner's family when said owner had to go into a nursing home for Alzheimer's. For the last few months of his life with that owner, he was neglected, because of the owner's disease. For being a standard dachshund, Rudy weighed in at a measly 16 pounds. His foster brother and nemesis was a standard coming in at 26 pounds.
I knew from the minute I laid eyes on Rudy that I wanted him. After all of our discussion I assumed that I would go home and they would let me know if Rudy was mine or not. To my elation Elaine told me Rudy was mine that night if I was for sure I wanted him. So, paperwork was signed, Rudy was packed up to go. Elaine got a little teary eyed as we left, which I thought was the cutest.
Rudy soon became the king of my humble castle. From the first night home he slept in my bed, got evening belly rubs, and more attention and love than I've ever put in to anything. A few weeks after he was with me, I woke up at 6am to Rudy shaking uncontrollably. He was having a grand mal seizure, and I had no idea what to do. After the seizure and my hysterical crying, we got into the car and headed off the the ER. Rudy continued to have seizures randomly, and eventually was diagnosed with epilepsy.
As soon as I found out what Rudy had, I did what any neurotic crazy lady does, I headed to the internet to learn and worry and diagnose. By the time I was done reading, I was convinced that Rudy had a brain tumor and was going to die at any moment. Seizures continued, medicine changed multiple times. It took us 8 months to finally find a good medication combination to regulate the love of my life. I was on pins and needles the entire time, worried that I didn't have much time with my precariously chosen dog that I cared about so very much.
Now over a year later since his adoption, Rudy is a happy healthy dog. He has a neurologist now, who immediately assured me that if Rudy had a brain tumor, it would be the slowest growing one she's ever seen in her career. She answers all of my ridiculous what ifs, and recently gave Rudy a clean bill of health after his yearly blood work. Rudy still has epilepsy, he always will, but it's very controlled.
Meanwhile Rudy is my love now more than ever. If this entry hasn't been gag worthy enough, I'll take it one step further. Rudy is the one that's always there for me, knows how I'm feeling, and loves me no matter what. I'm so happy he rescued me, as he is that I rescued him.
