From the first time you set foot in our door, you were lord and master of the house. You were Dad’s baby and spoiled rotten. We never even left home to get you, you came right to our house so to speak. We had a contractor doing some work for us and he had you out in his truck. Dad asked about you and the guy explained he was going through a divorce and didn’t know what to do with you. The guy noticed all our other dogs and brought you in the house while he was working. By the time he was done he was satisfied that this was a good home and asked Dad if he wanted you. The answer was yes, and you stayed.
You sort of moved right in and took over. As with all dachshunds, you were a cocky little thing and you strutted around like you owned the place, which in fact you did! We nicknamed you Professor Barney Noodlesock and you reigned supreme. Although for the most part you were a lover, you had an ornery streak too. You were Dad’s kid and you made sure all the other kids knew it. You were also a very persistent little bugger–
you got your way one way or the other!
And, you were so protective. I think you thought you were a guard dog or something. If you didn’t know somebody, you really checked them out. If you did know somebody, you were ready to go home with them if they as much as petted you! Everybody thought you were a little doll and several friends and relatives tried to sneak you out of the house. You wouldn’t have stayed gone for long though–not unless Dad went with you, you followed him everywhere and were his right hand man.
I remember the time you and Ginger and Trouble got a muskrat cornered out in the yard. Boy, that was a sight. I was hollering for Dad while trying to keep you all away from it. Ginger and Trouble got their noses ripped open and it took me and Dad to get you away from it–you were ready to kill–we never seen you so intent on protecting your territory. You sure could be a scrapper when you wanted to be.
You ruled the house and took over our bed for 10 years. Everything was fine, we lost you so quick–we still can’t believe you’re gone. One night you started coughing. I thought you had a slight cold and decided to call the vet in the morning. Got you there first thing and she took a chest x-ray because she didn’t like the sound of your lungs. She also didn’t like the looks of the x-ray. Wanted to send you to the Animal Hospital, but it was during the holidays and we couldn’t get an appointment until after the first of the year. She sent us home with antibiotics and said things would be fine. That same afternoon you started coughing blood. We didn’t wait–we rushed you
to the Animal Hospital emergency.
When we got you there, they put you on oxygen and ran some tests. It appeared you had pneumonia, but they’d have to wait until the next day for lab results. We wanted to stay at the hospital, but we had all the other kids at home and there was a blizzard raging and we had to get home. They said you had a 50-50 chance, and they would get you stabilized and we could call when we got home. It took us almost 3 hours to get home and when we got there the phone was ringing–it was the hospital. You had taken a turn for the worse and there was nothing they could do, they wanted permission to euthanize you.
I was so shaken, as I handed the phone to Dad, it was too late–you crossed the Bridge in Val’s arms. Dad and I were inconsolable, we felt so guilty and so helpless. We didn’t want to leave you to begin with and then to have this happen. The only consolation was, if we couldn’t be holding you we would want nobody else except Val, your guardian angel. We know you crossed peacefully and with love.
You’ll never know the guilt that we still carry and the shock of losing you–you were gone in less than 18 hours and we had no idea it was coming. You left us too unexpectedly and way too soon. We still have not gotten over your loss. Dad still struggles with it every day–he can’t believe you’re gone.
We love and miss you very much. We know you’re waiting at the Bridge doing your hoppy-sock thing. Be at Peace, Barney, until we meet again—–
ALL OUR LOVE LITTLE GUY,
| Barney |
| 27, Dec 2001 |
| Helen Malinauskas & Joe Bielinski |