Eagerly, I waited at the airport for my two new shih tsu pups to arrive in
their little crate.  At seven weeks, they were flying from Missouri to New
York.  It was February and a bitterly cold night.  Finally, the attendant
handed me the crate with my new shih tsu, I opened it and out staggered
two tiny creatures–one black and white with a little bit of brindle;
one white and reddish brown with a black tips on the ears.  They were
shaking probably with fear, hunger, and cold.  Patiently, my friend and
I waited for them to pee in the parking lot.  That was the beginning of the
story.

I christened the light one, Della: and the dark one, Daisy Mae.  Right
away, I recognized Della for her beauty and calm intelligence; it took me
awhile to appreciate the wild energy and intense curiosity of Daisy Mae.
Day after day, I struggled to housebreak the two shih tsus who ran in two
different directions before I had their cage door fully open.  At times, it
was heavenly.  I would sit in my rocker with the two pups asleep in my lap,
or I would spend hours combing their hair (the ultimate therapy).  Other
times it was chaotic. They kept each other up at night and they wrestled,
barked, growled and played with each other endlessly.  It was cute, funny,
and out of control.

Della learned things quickly and was easy to get along with. Daisy took her
own sweet time and stole my heart with her silly, playful, audacious ways.
As I observed them, I noticed that Daisy, smaller than Della, drank twice
as much water and urinated more frequently.  I tucked that information
away.

Step-by-step, I began to bond with my shih tsus and they with me.  We got
housebroken together in a way.  I can't tell you how much energy and time
this took.  I cried in frustration frequently, but I laughed in delight
more than I cried.  Then, came the day of their first vet examination.  We
sat for hours, listened to videos about dog training, and finally the vet
came in.  He said Della was perfectly healthy but Daisy Mae had a kidney
problem.  He was going to put her on antibiotics and check her again in
three weeks.  "Hopefully," he said, "It's an infection."  He didn't sound
hopeful.

Three weeks later, I received the news: My silly Daisy Mae, the one who
sucks every drop out of life, had kidney failure.  The vet said she might
live three years and she might live three months.  I sobbed in utter shock
and disbelief.  We talked for about an hour. I learned that I had to get
Daisy onto soft dog food and mix that half with water, that Vanilla Wafers
would be her treats.  I learned that she might never be housebroken and
that she had to have water with her at all times.  I went home with two
pups, new food for Daisy, and a broken heart.

Over the next week, I came to realize that I couldn't have Daisy on one
regimen and Della on another one. Della wanted Daisy's food and Daisy
wanted Della's.  Daisy's in-house urination lapses were tolerated; Della
began lapsing as well.  I could see confusion in intelligent Della's big
brown eyes.  I came to a difficult decision. I would have to give Della
away and nurse Daisy Mae.

I put an ad in the employment bulletin where I work and had several takers.
I gave Della to a good friend of mine because it felt like she'd still be
in the family.  When they came to pick her up, I put her bed in the same
crate that she had arrived in from Missouri.  I hugged and kissed her,
crying, and then put her in the crate.  She sat quietly, serious.  I petted
her and told her she was going to a great home where there were children
for her to play with.  I put her favorite treats in with her and closed the
door.  They drove away.  I knew that Della would be ok wherever she went.
She had a self-possession that was palpable.

I went back into Daisy Mae who was waiting in her crate. She had never been
separated from Della.  For a couple of days, she searched everywhere for
her sister.  I spent a lot of time with her, playing and grooming her.  I
thought I would never see her smile again, never see that pink tongue
hanging out of her little black face.  Then, one day, we were funning
through deep grass in the field near my house, and Daisy Mae was smiling.
I dropped to my knees in the grass and Daisy ran to me, tongue lolling out,
hair flying. She rolled on the ground and I rubbed her tummy.  She wiggled
and smiled in joy.  Daisy Mae was herself again.

Now, it's one day at a time.  Last night, Daisy peed in the house 3 times
and peed outside 4 times.  She seemed to have to urinate constantly.  Most
days and nights she's as housebroken as any other dog.  She's taken to her
new food and has gained weight.  I don't kid myself. Daisy Mae has always
known her lifetime would be short; she makes the most of every minute.
Whatever happens and whenever it happens, I'll never forget the little
dark-eyed, spunky pup who makes this lucky owner feel ten years younger.
And who makes me laugh as if my tongue were hanging out.

Tags: shih tzu puppies, shih tsu