I made a vow last week that I would write no more posts about Truffle at least for a while, and now here I am, breaking that vow. But how can I not write about him? Why should I focus on the planet’s seemingly terminal troubles when here at my feet, by my side, on my lap is a miniature being who not only needs me but is developing a definite fondness for me? In this, the winter of our discontent, Truffle has turned out to be the world’s best antidepressant. No side effects, either—no indigestion, headaches, or weight gain. In fact I’ve lost three pounds since I’ve had him.
The weight loss has not been without cause. When you’re trying to housetrain a dog, constant vigilance is the price of success. All day long, whenever I sit down, five minutes later I get up and either take him to his pee pad in hopes he’ll perform, or run around the house looking for him lest he relieve himself in some forbidden spot. At one point he developed a case of the runs and I spent a couple of days running behind him with towels and a can of Nature’s Miracle. That is all better now, thanks to our Chinese-medicine-oriented vet, who spent an hour and a half reconnoitering every inch of Truffle’s anatomy, doing chiropractic and acupuncture on him, and dosing him with a solution of mysterious herbs that worked like a charm.
And it was when we finally got back from the clinic that I knew that Truffle had at last adopted us. The minute I set him down inside the house, he did laps as fast as his legs would carry him, tail up, ears back, mouth open in a grin, saying, Hallelujah, I’m home at last!
Because everything is relative, behaviors that I would have taken for granted in a dog with a normal upbringing are cause for celebration when Truffle exhibits them. He was so depressingly withdrawn at the beginning, refusing to make eye contact, disliking to be touched, and turning, turning endlessly in clockwise circles. But all that has changed now. It helps that, though he’s as light and fluffy as a dandelion, he is far from dumb. He has become a virtuoso of eye contact, and uses it to great effect. He gazes up at me with his weird blue left eye and his mostly brown right eye, and watches me stop whatever I’m doing and melt. He comes to me to be petted and massaged and praised in high-pitched tones, which cause him to open wide his toothless mouth and wiggle in ecstasy (In case you’re wondering: I had never used high-pitched baby talk with my other dogs before, but it sure does work with Truffle, so I swallow my pride and sound like an idiot).
I had forgotten, in the course of Bisou’s declining years, when she mostly only slept and ate, how active an eight-year-old dog can be. It does my heart good to watch Truffle race around the house, and it does my heart especially good to see that his obsessive circling, technically known as a stereotypy, is decreasing. Stereotypies are often seen in animals who are held in small enclosures, and the cure for them is enrichment of the environment, which I am trying to provide. Come to think of it, it’s remarkable that circling and a reserved attitude towards humans are the only obvious aftereffects of Truffle’s seven years in a cage. Now, though he still circles, especially when he’s eager for his food, he often travels in straight lines. And when I take him outside and he’s busy sniffing the fox and squirrel and rabbit smells, he doesn’t circle at all. True to his Nordic heritage, he is remarkably tolerant of cold, and plows fearlessly into snow banks.
As soon as I find a treat that his delicate stomach can digest I will begin teaching him to sit, and stay, and walk on leash. After that, who knows what horizons of canine achievement await us? Rally, agility, therapy work? There is nothing like hope to counter Weltschmerz, and heaven knows we can all use a little hope right now.
19 Responses
The best part (and Truffle is a really good part) is how good YOU sound.
May you have many, many happy years with your little treat.
He’s a lot of work, but somehow I’m managing it.
I am so glad you ignored your previous intent to not talk about life with Truffles. Your lives together bring so much “big truth” to the surface for all of us to relish. Very important stuff, and of course — why ignore the huge shift occurring right before your eyes (and on your lap) in favor of shifts happening in partial shadow at a distance and appearing out of our control. I am thrilled as the story of You and Truffles unfolds. It is downright joyous.
We all must grab whatever bits of joy we can!
He has come so far! I am astounded. It took Luna months to do the crazy dash! Now she wants to play all the time.
Can’t wait for Truffle to meet Luna. I wonder if they’ll know each other?
Ditto Pam’s note. I could read about you and Truffle endlessly. And will hope for a drawing one day, too.
I’ll have to find a way to render all that fluff…
Heartwarming! So happy for you both!
Thank you, Dorrice. Give the resident tiger a pat for me.
I love, love, love hearing about Truffle’s transformation under your loving care, Lali. What an amazing experience for you both. Win-win, that’s for sure! Thank you for sharing and please keep us up to date on his journey!
It’s a work in progress for sure.
I’m so happy for both of you!
I have a question about treats for Truffles. Can his belly tolerate sweet potato? I sometimes babysit a toothless elderly dachshund. While the rest of his canine family gets crunchy treats, he usually just swallows little bits without chewing. Now when I stay with them I just microwave a whole sweet potato until soft but not mushy. When it’s cool enough I cut it into small chunks and refrigerate. He can “chew” them, and I think the coolness feels good on his gums. He loves them!
That is a wonderful idea, especially because sweet potato is supposed to be so good for the GI tract (of dogs, that is).
So Happy for you Lali, I understand all you are going through having experienced some of the same things with Coco a while back. Life is so much better with a Pet to love and take care of, then they take care of us.
You have done such a terrific job with her, it’s only fair that she’s now taking care of you.
I’m enchanted by your updates. And maybe that is why your updates reminded me today of Ste. Exupery’s (sp?) The LIttle Prince. You are “taming” Truffle! So sweet!
Truffle is taming me, too!
Truffle is taming me, too!