Living In Doodledom, Part 1
(Published February, 2001)

Those of you who have been with us awhile know about "The Doodles." For those of you who are new to the newsletter, a brief history:

In January of last year, we adopted a beautiful longhaired silver dapple mini doxie who had been rescued from a puppy mill (the owners were eventually convicted of animal neglect, fined, and given a jail sentence). We welcomed this timid, scared little girl into our home and hearts to help us heal from the pain we were suffering from losing our precious Stubby (also a longhaired silver dapple) to a drowning accident in September of 1999. We knew we would have some work to do in socializing "Scarlett" since her whole world (she was just a year old, if that) had been living in squalor in a box with little human contact. What we didn't know we were getting was three dogs in one. Yes, Scarlett was pregnant. 

Normally, the rescue group we adopted her from never adopts out an unaltered dog. But because I had adopted from them before, and they knew my support of rescue, they let me adopt Scarlett before she was spayed, with my promise to have her spayed within a couple weeks. 

Scarlett did not become impregnated at the puppy mill ... it happened at the animal shelter when the over 100 animals were housed in whatever cages were available. She happened to be crated with a male red poodle. 

Three weeks after bringing her home, we were blessed with DOODLES (part dachsie, part poodle). Greta and Garbo celebrate their first birthday on February 17... and what a year it has been with them. They have brought us such joy in the aftermath of such sorrow. 

Both girls have silver dapple coloring, but their hair is something between a longhair dachshund, a poodle and a sheepdog. If their faces are not kept trimmed, it's hard to tell which end is which. 

Greta, the smaller of the two, has a poodle face, poodle underbite, and petite poodle paws. Her attitude, though, is all dachshund. You know the one: I bark at everything/afraid of nothing (until it chases me)/listen to no one/everything is for me/you want me to do my business where? Dramatic, possessive, flirtatious. She makes everyone who visits feel like they are her favorite ...that she has had NO attention since last they visited and she has been waiting patiently for their return and if it wasn't for them, she would surely die of neglect. (Sorry, Jerry, Bill, Shirley, Sheri ... it's all an act). 

One moment she will be practically tearing Garbo's ear off of her or shredding some object she found lying on the floor. Then just before you can reprimand her, she crawls into your lap, looks remorsefully into your eyes and laps you smack on the lips with a sincere I-didn't-mean-it kiss. And we're not talking a quick slurp ... oh, no, Greta is much too dramatic for that. She wants you to feel the sincerity in her gesture before she rolls back her head and places a paw on her forehead to underscore her woefullness. 

Her favorite toy? Any tiny scrap of material. We make the Hug-A-Dog Harnesses® here so there are plenty of material scraps around for the taking. Her absolute favorite is finding a tiny — and I mean the tinier the better — piece of belting. She will lie on her back and hold the piece of belting in between her paws and play with it in her mouth. 

Garbo looks like a wirehair doxie crossed with a sheepdog. Bearded and bushy eyebrows ... a long coat that is almost corded. Her feathery ears and tail are the only clues of her longhair doxie heritage.

A little more reserved than Greta, she wants to get to know you before offering you any of her prized kisses. And when Garbo kisses you, you know you have been kissed ... like taking a paint brush up and down your face. 

She is the "dancing doodle" — she could easily be a circus dog as she can walk upright on her back legs ... usually with the purpose of locating treats on a desk or table. 

Her favorite toy — "The Favorite Piece" — is what used to be a 4" x 2" piece of white Velcro®. I should rephrase my description: it is not just her favorite toy, it is her security blanket, her pacifier, her piece of heaven. It took a certain amount of skill to get The Favorite Piece to be The Perfect Piece. It used to be flat ... it used to be white ... it used to be clean. Now, it is rolled up into a 2-inch long tube, is the color of an old rag used to wash your car, and has just the right amount of threads and other loose debris caught in the "teeth". There is very little "scratchiness" left to it ... thanks to hours of chewing and gumming and carrying it around in her mouth. We dread the day this thing disintegrates ... we may need to ask for references for a dog psychologist. In fact, our seamstress, Helene, has tried to extend its life by sewing an "extension" of white Velcro® to the fraying end. 

Speaking of Helene, if she ever has a day that she is feeling unloved, all she has to do is see the Doodles for reassurance that she is loved. They adore her — especially Garbo. Garbo will sit or lie next to Helene's chair as she sews (occasionally she sits on her lap), and she devotedly sits by the door until Helene returns from a break.

The first order of the day when Helene arrives is to disrobe her of any "hair pretties" (any tie-back she has to hold back her ponytail). The moment she walks in the door, the Doodles attack her, fully expecting their jumping to bring her to her knees (which, of course, she obliges), and they proceed to yank and pull at her ponytail until it is bereft of all "pretties." Victorious in their conquest, they parade around the shop with their trophies.

After "hair pretties", their next task is to untie her shoelaces, and if they succeed in making off with a piece, then it's been an exceptionally good day.