Acquired: Worked with pet (didn’t own)
Training: I haven't learned care / training techniques
Posted August 22, 2014
The one time I ever decided to breed a dog, I picked the trickiest and most complicated dog to breed there ever could be, a dachshund. Not only that, but I was foolish enough to choose a Double Dapple Dachshund to be the mother of this gorgeous and expensive litter I invisioned. It taught me one thing fast, Never to breed dogs of any sort for profit again. There are too many dogs out there that need homes BAD, and I already knew that, no profit in the world is worth playing God and breeding more animals, especially just for profit. And dachshunds are profoundly tricky.
Having said that, I navigated all those waters somehow, and came out with a healthy litter, except for one tiny pup, the only one that even showed outwardly any signs of being a dapple, the rest were, of course, they were just red. But the tiniest pup by far, in size, at about half the size of the others, was black with silver markings. I didn't care anymore about the markings, I only cared that there were no casualties from my brief respite from sanity at bringing more dogs into the world. I carefully placed the pup at her mother's nipples and saw that she didn't have the strenth to suckle. After a trip to the feed store, I began with the tiniest kitten nipple to feed her with esbilac or whatever the proper food was, and also colostrum. She was like a little deflated mouse in my hands before feeding, and she would drink, Me half squeezing the formula into her mouth, until she was so full she looked like a slightly inflated mouse. I would then pray for her, I would pray hard, warming her in my hands, and begging God to work through me. When I finally put her back in the pen I would be exhausted, and check back in a few hours, only to be surprised each time she wasn't dead. I never slept through the night. Every time I returned to the cage and found her alive I praised God, it could be no other force but Him. She finally began to grow in size and strength and even to crawl and then passed the danger zone and we removed her from the cage because the other pups pulled mercilessly at her airplane ears, which she still has today. I sold the other sleek and pretty puppies at a reasonable price.
Today Cheetah lives with my step daughter, Amber. Amber brings her over when she is going to be out of the house for more than an hour. Cheetah is sleek and fat and soft. She is so happy all the time, and she is totally attached to Amber, who is totally attached to her. I ask Cheetah if she remembers the days when she was as tiny as a mouse, and she just wags her tail and smothers me with kisses. I love the things that God can accomplish for a little dog.