Atlhough I can't ease Denni's pain or fill the void left by Iris's death, I can pay tribute to this little dog's life by sharing her story as Denni wrote it for my book A is for Angel: A Dog Lover's Guide to the Alphabet. It expresses better than I ever could the impact Iris had on her human mom's life.
I is for Iris
Iris came into our life with her sister, Lily, her constant companion and protector. In 2000 I was asked by Hearts United for Animals to foster two miniature dachshunds from an abuse case in Pennsylvania. The two sisters had been starved, beaten, and locked in a basement and left to die. They’d then been held at a shelter for two months as evidence in a cruelty case and were relinquished when the abuser was convicted. Of course I said yes. My heart hurt just looking at the tiny dogs, trying to imagine their horrible first two years. I wondered if my daughter, Kelly, and I would be able to help them overcome the pain of their past. But we knew we had to try.
When I took Lily and Iris in, I never asked myself, “What if we fall in love with them?” much less “What happens WHEN we fall in love with them?” But as applications began to come in, I realized that I'd grown to love these “damaged” Doxies a lot; they were such sponges for affection and they gave it back doubled. I was so ambivalent. I worried about handing them over even to a great new home and wondered if anyone else would love them as much as I already did and if they’d be allowed to sleep in their new owner’s bed. Kelly and I already knew they needed to stay together and I felt we could provide the love and attention they so badly needed. So we became “failed” fosters…and a five-dog family!
Despite, or maybe because of, her tough first years, Iris is an upbeat, happy-go-lucky soul. We often watch her wandering the backyard and laugh about “Iris in La La Land.” Her nicknames are Boo (for Yogi Bear’s sidekick, Boo Boo) and Stinker (when she hides under the sofa to escape going outside). Her favorite activities include licking you until you just can’t take anymore, sleeping inside pillowcases, hanging out with Lily, and sitting in the sun. It’s a quiet life—with an occasional outbreak of infectious barking—but she seems happy. Her special skill, according to Kelly, is, “knowing how to make you smile even when you’re upset.”
When Iris was four, she ruptured a disk (a fairly common Doxie problem) and required surgery. When I told friends how much her operation was going to cost, several told me I was crazy, but I just thought about how young Iris was and how big a part of my daughter’s and my life she was. After the surgery, I took her to an acupuncturist. (Now all my friends were sure I was nuts). Just two sessions later, she’d regained her normal sunny disposition and once again wandered—albeit with a little hitch in her gait—in La La Land.
Despite the occasional chaos of a multi-dog household, neither Kelly nor I regret making Iris and Lily part of our family. Both girls have the ability to make us smile even when we’re upset, and, according to Kelly, “Iris has shown me that even in the face of hardship, pain, and suffering, you can pull through and still be an amazingly loving and caring creature.”