This photo was taken a few years ago. Anyone that knows about dachshunds knows that they LOVE food, and will go nuts for it. My dad had to ration his food so that he didn’t get unhealthy from constant over-eating. In this pic, he was so tired that he didn’t know there was a treat right in front of his nose!
Keena was my dad’s dog and one of my childhood dogs. I grew up with divorced parents, so I was fortunate enough to have 2 awesome dogs while growing up – Keena at my dad’s and Sambuca at my mom’s. Dad got Keena in 2002, a few months after my 8th birthday. Keena is a purebred miniature dachshund, and joined the family as soon as he could leave his momma. I remember the day my dad got him – he had to jump over the cut grass, he was so short! The second he saw me, he ran up to say hi. I fell in love with him instantly.
Keena was quite a character. He was [almost] as rambunctious, yappy, and annoying as any other little dog, and would often drive me nuts. But he was adorable, loving, and funny. He had no problem picking fights with great danes and rotties, and would go nuts for any food – especially his bone or a carrot. If he had a bone and you went up to him, he would growl at you as if to say, “Don’t screw with me or my bone, I swear to god…” When you sat down and obviously didn’t steal the bone, he would come over and show off his bone, as if to say, “Yeah bud! Look what I got!”
I remember one day, after summer camp at the stable, I came home tired beyond belief. I was just starting to develop juvenile rheumatoid arthritis and sleep apnea, and was working my ass off at the barn – I was exhausted. But Keena didn’t give a shit. He hopped up on me (I’ll never figure out how he could jump up on the couch with those little legs of his), and demanded attention. Still to this day, my dad and I laugh about it – he was so persistent and I was so tired that I began to cry from frustration, and my dad took him off of me. He was an annoying little bugger, but impossible not to love.
My dad had Keena through many trying and personal points in his life. Even when I wasn’t around, Keena was. My dad and Keena were companions for Keen’s entire life – for 12 years. When dad had to go to work, my grandparents would watch Keena. They adored him just as much, if not more, than anyone else. He was their 2nd grandchild. I always joke that my grandfather considers him his favourite grandchild!
Keena started to have problems a few years ago. He started to have back problems, which is very common in wiener dogs. It was treated with steroids, but he wasn’t able to do things like jump on the couch anymore. Shortly after, his face started to grey. When he was young, every hair was a nice chestnut colour – I didn’t like to see him age. A couple of years later, his teeth started to get in really bad shape, and a couple of years after that, his hips and jaw started to have problems. Still, he was happy and always down to get attention. Up until recently, he didn’t seem to have much pain. He was a positive little fart, and a cheerful one. But eventually… it was time. A few days ago, my dad had to put him down.
The night before, I said goodbye. When I got there, he had a huge steak. He was very proud of it. Like always, he growled a warning, and as I settled, he had to show it off. His hips were in terrible shape, so he kind of dragged his legs behind him like Herbert the pervert’s dog [Family Guy reference]. It broke my heart to see, but damn was he proud of that bone. I could tell he knew it was time.
I think the night before it happened was harder than the actual day he went. Saying goodbye was like a punch in the soul. I miss the little guy so much. But I watched my other childhood dog, Sambuca, suffer – she died in my arms on the way to the clinic after suffering for hours because no nearby clinic was open to euthanize her. I think knowing that Keena went peacefully after munchin’ out on cookies and steak rather than how Buca went brings me a sense of peace. I miss lil man, but I love him too much, and think he went in an ideal way, if that is possible. He died peacefully.
He was laid to rest in my grandparent’s yard. His purebred certificate of registration is framed and on my wall, surrounded by my philodendron. My dad will soon bring me his food dish and water dish, and my cats will use them. The thought of my cats being sustained with something that once sustained Keener Wiener brings me comfort. My grandparents are sad but strong, and my father is working on keeping busy. He is hurting deeply, but he is strong, too. I think we all are glad to have had Keena in our life, and this terrible heartache was worth every second of yapping and loving he gave us.
Rebecca Bratt. 