Last Friday I picked up Crunch's remains from the vet. It was a hard trip, I sobbed in the car before going in and it hit me again when I got back into the car.
We had gotten Crunch in January of 1993. We wanted another dog and we thought Rally would like the companionship. He just kind of fell into our laps. His breeder had called us wondering if we were still looking for a dog. I had spoken with her months earlier when we were first looking, but she had nothing to offer at the time. Apparently I had made a good impression and when they had decided that it was time to place "Nestle" they gave us a call.
Because of Crunch, Dianne (his breeder), became a very good friend. She then pointed me in the direction of the local dachshund club and I made a lot of friends in the "dog world." The local club was and still is very performance oriented and it was a given that if your dog had any talent in the field you should try to put a Field Championship on it along with a bench or rather show Championship thus earning the dog the title of Dual Champion. Crunch was a natural in the field, his only problem was the extreme difficulty I had in getting him back. He was notorious as the dog that would take off when the judges would ask for the handlers to pick up their dogs. His saving grace was his unfailingly happy demeanor and the fact that anybody could pick him up. Everybody loved Crunch because he loved everybody.
As the years slipped by I would occasionally bring Crunch out to show. He loved going to shows and always put on a good show. At the tender age of 11 1/2 he sired his first litter and a few months later John, his son, came to live with us. When Jake turned 10 we got him a Junior Handler number and he would take Crunch into the ring while I showed John. Crunch was very happy with his new career and was very patient with Jake. But I could she he was starting to fade.
But then at the end of summer Crunch started to falter. He wasn't as sure on his feet and his nose started to bother him. It looked like him had a nasal tumor. We never got a definitive diagnoses, because it would mean sedating him and the last time we did , about 8 months previously, it took 4 days for him to recover. I promised him I wouldn't do that to him again. At 15 he was too old. Then he stopped wrestling with John and not long afterwards to eat. I was able to tempt him along for a while, but in the end it was time.
The last picture was taken a few days before his final trip. He was my dog and always loved to be in my lap.