The Fateful Day
November, 1999

The Dachshund Delights workshop is located at our home, a separate building located to the front and off to the side of our two-story log home. Both home and shop sit back about 700 feet off the road on five acres of woods. Neighboring properties are more acres of woods. A dachshund's dream home. A large area (24x60) is fenced in for the dogs and the fencing meets a deck that wraps around to the back of the house and connects to an enclosed porch. Three other non-dachshund dogs (all rescues) live here, too.

One of my pastimes is landscaping. The land our house sits on is a virtual rock quarry. A landscaper's dream ... and nightmare. Two years ago my partner and I dug, chipped, cracked, pounded, and darn near blasted out a small area to build an ornamental pond. It took several days ... and a lot of cursing at each new rock we found. Just 24 inches down, we had to stop because we met with a solid sheet of rock. Just eight-foot long and six-foot wide in a "peanut shell" shape, we laid the pond plastic and bordered it with the newly harvested rocks. A drain led from downspouts to provide a natural water flow. Water from the hose provided what nature shorted us on.

Little by little our special place took form. Three koi goldfish inhabited the water. A fountain spewed forth in a dome shape. An antique water pump (my grandmother's working pump from her water source) was the center attraction. A hose from the fountain's pump thread through the old pump's innards gave the illusion of a working pump. Natural wood chips surrounding the pond kept visitor's feet clean and dry. Various begonia varieties, vinca vine, impatiens, citrus plants, a Wandering Jew hanging plant, fuchsia ... all blended to form a colorful, peaceful setting. Two Amish-made benches beckoned visitors to sit and stay to enjoy a warm summer afternoon. Candles and landscaping lights invited evening patrons. Bird feeders hanging nearby brought song and aerial displays. A tranquil place we created to enjoy for years to come. A setting so pretty that a wedding was hosted pondside a year ago July. On that particular day, some small object lodged itself in the fountain's spray, causing the dome shape to transform into a heart shape.

On September 25th of this year, the source of the flowing water to that very fountain broke our hearts. Our beautiful Stubby, a longhair with distinctive silver dapple markings, fell into that pond and drowned. The place once so tranquil was now a place of unrest and torment.

The day started as so many others. A sunny, warm early autumn day. The trees just starting to turn color. I had several errands to run before leaving to visit my father for a belated birthday celebration that afternoon. I had Stubby and Rhett harnessed up and ready to "go for a ride." We went out the front door and down the steps to the front yard. They gleefully bounded into the grass and commenced their sniffing routine. I instructed them to "go do your business" as I prepared my truck for them to ride. I remembered I needed to get something from the workshop. I was inside for about 3-4 minutes and when I returned to the front yard, Stubby and Rhett were nowhere in sight.

They have never been dogs that had to be constantly on a leash. They are never turned out to just go free for the day. Their front yard "play" time is always supervised, but there have been times when they've been sent out from the shop to go do their business ... and they have carried their "business" into the neighboring woods, coming back with tell-tale signs of their "business": a muddy nose, mud-caked paws, a dark brown tongue and the remnants of leaves and twigs in their feathery fur. The past several days there seemed to have been an abundance of chipmunk activity. Between the dachshunds and the cats, they had tallied at least three chipmunks. Our dachshunds have always had a nose for the ground. They have definitely retained their ancestry of being hunters. The day before, Stubby had found herself a particularly interesting hole. On this day, she and Rhett were more concerned about chipmunks than they were "going for a ride." In the few minutes time I was in the workshop, they disappeared into the back woods. 

I called for them and looked for them briefly. I harnessed up Matti and told her that she could go. I called once more for them but I had no time for their games this day. I scolded them and told them they had better be on the porch when I got home. I left to do my errands, fully expecting them to be waiting at the door when I got back. When I returned, Rhett was there as expected. But he was barking furiously at me. I scooped him up and questioned him of his whereabouts and the whereabouts of his sister. He gave me an odd look — odd enough that I looked him over to be sure he was not injured. I put him in the house, called my dad to inform him I would be late, and went back outside to call for Stubby. 

It didn't take me long to find her. I saw the pink of her harness from several feet away. Her body floating lifelessly on the left side of the pond. The fountain, which that morning had been spraying the decorative dome, was bubbling aimlessly underwater. I screamed and ran to her. I have no words to describe the feelings within me as I pulled her stiff body from the water. Her eyes still held her panic in them. I was overcome with hysteria and smothering grief. There was no saving her. No reviving her. No rescuing her. In an afternoon — in moments — my Stubby was gone.

She had never shown any interest in the pond ... just in what may be hiding under the rocks. My guess is that she was just back from a furious chipmunk chase and she was thirsty. She probably stood on one of the rocks and leaned over to get a drink ... even though there were other places around the yard with drinking water. She panicked. She probably took a big gulp when she fell in and the fountain was spewing water all over top of her, confounding any efforts to get her head free of water. She may have had a seizure (she was on medication for them) which would have doomed her. There was a natural ledge on the other side that had she swam to it, she could have stood with her head easily out of the water. She did not have a tail (for a rudder), and because of the fused vertebrae in her lower spine, she did not run like other dogs, and so she would not have had the same kick power as a normal dog. She may have just been walking by the pond and may have had a seizure. She always tried to find one of us when this happened ... she could have been disoriented and fell in. She may have chased a chipmunk under the rocks and in her frenzy, could have gone on top of the rocks and then lost her balance. We'll never know.

In the days that followed, I laid every ounce of blame upon myself. Blame for leaving without them, for taking the few minutes to do something in the office that could have been done later, for having been gone too long, for not fencing in the pond, for even building the pond in the first place. I cursed God. I cursed the rain that fell the day before which stopped me from doing those particular errands that day. I cursed the idiot who dumped a tiny, sick kitten in our road. Going to the vet for medicine was one of my errands. I cursed myself for buying new bicycles in the spring. Another of my errands (and the reason I couldn't go in the rain) was picking up the bikes from being serviced. I cursed the pet distributor for going out of business. They were another stop along my way to see what bargains I could get. One of the bargains was a new pond pump ... and five new collars. My torment is picturing her struggling to get out and wondering exactly when in my travels did she take her last breath? At what moment did she need me and I wasn't there? 

I have no answer to that, of course. I have no answers for why this happened to our sweet girl and to us. I have no answers as to when the pain inside me will not hurt so much. I am trying to learn the lessons in this chapter of my life. The best I can do right now is to hold onto the words that Jerry left with you in October: "If Stubby's short life leaves us with any lesson, it's that fate can seem cruel, and that we should give love and accept it when the opportunity is given." Stubby gave us love every moment she could. 

I ask that you visitors to our site take heed in my warning: If you have any body of water on your property, COMPLETELY fence it in or NEVER let your dogs off leash for even a few moments. For those of you who have received the 9th edition of our catalog, you will surely notice the connection to the cover: Peewee in a life jacket. That photo was taken and the cover was printed before the accident. What bitter irony.

Hug your doxies (and other loved ones) every day. You never know when it will be for the last time.

April Scott
Owner, Dachshund Delights

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