The Schweenie the World Awaited

Written by Jen Thursday, 23 April 2009 14:56

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Well, we did it. After 12 years of pining for a pooch, we made the plunge. We adopted a schweenie last weekend. No kidding.

Our life wasn't weird enough as it was so we decided to welcome this unusual 18 month old shih-tzu/dachshund mix into the family. You just can't get an odder combination. But it suits her. With a shaggy face, a dachshund torso and a curly long-haired tail, she is a quirky little thing. And after five days of watching her tail wag and melting into those soulful brown eyes, we have grown attached to this sweet creature.

Because she tends to stand with her front paws positioned in a "T," just like Mary Poppins with her famed umbrella, we call her Poppy at the moment. (Jury is still out on this.) Ironically, Poppy didn't exactly smell like a flower when we brought her home from the rescue shelter.

We always intended to have a dog, but life seemed to get in the way. It never seemed like the right time. Then I received a magazine writing assignment about popular pet names and in the midst of my research, we got the itch. (I also determined that one more episode of Animal Planet's It's Me or the Dog was going to kill me.) The kids talked about dog names and breeds for weeks, and the quintessential pet lover in our family insisted we save an unwanted animal. So we did. And as our incredulous friends point out, when our teens leave the nest, this little bundle of energy will stay. Our assessment of the "right time" probably qualifies us for a thorough mental examination.

Poppy's behavior is appropriate for a neglected puppy ignored by a backyard breeder. The shelter set about training her as they do service dogs for the disabled, but Poppy, as with most other dogs the organization accepts, was not suited for this auspicious profession. She was thus offered to a loving family as a pet. Enter my brood, the We-Have-Really-Good-Intentions-But-Have-No-Idea-What-We're-Doing Family.

So now we have this skittish little doggie ravenously devouring everything in site (edible and non-edible alike). Her issues are very predictable and demand patience and attention. Yet unlike my children, she thinks I'm super all the time.

Unconditional love. Who could ask for more?