√Toy Poodle, 1988
In 1988 I acquired another new addition — an 8 year old miniature (almost toy) white poodle, Tootsie. She belonged to a man who called the veterinarian and said “Come get my dogs, I’m dying,” and he did, indeed, die. When no one claimed the poodle (Tootsie) or the terrier (Belvedeer), Ginny Weil & her daughter, Wendy, a high school senior who worked for the veterinarian, rescued them from extinction. Ginnie begged me to take Tootsie, who was already 10 or 11 years old. Belvedeer was still looking for a home when I happily took Tootsie. Hecuba didn’t quite know what to make of her new playmate. They are a very unlikely pair – 55 lbs. of massive, muscular English Bulldog vs 10 dainty, spritely pounds of cuddly poodle.
Tootsie and Hecuba became great companions and looked so cute when they curled up together on the couch on cold days – two rather incongruous companions.
Tootsie had a white stuffed toy that was her size and shape, small, white, with one-arm, and kind of looked like her. She would clamp her mouth down in the crook of the missing arm and body, and put her head up in the air, prancing around the house, like a horse performing dressage at warp speed, cocky as could be.
One winter night, when it was snowing, she somehow crawled between the stove and the wall and got stuck trying to turn around. She was in intense pain.
I scooped her up and drove her to the east side of town, 15 or 20 miles away. The doctor told me that she had twisted her stomach and it would never get better, that the most humane thing would be to put her down. I gave her a kiss and told them to put her out of her misery.
And so I lost my 17 or 18 years old blind and sickly toy poodle.