My first impression of the ancient dog I was rescuing was that he was soft and pliable, like a leavened loaf of bread, and when I picked him up, I was aware of how soft and fuzzy he seemed to be. Peggy, the rescue lady handed him over to me, and I sat in a chair and held him close to me, stroking his soft ears and head. Although he was awake, he began to snore, which I would later learn was his way of showing his total contentment.

Although he had been recently groomed and cleaned, I could see a sort of sad raggedness about him. When Peggy saw that we got along, she was ready to let him go home with me. She told me that mini schnauzers were normally expensive, but as he was a rescue dog, I could have him for a reasonable amount; he was considered difficult to adopt because of his age. Months before I had written to the small dog rescue web sites that I would be willing to take any dog, and especially the old ones, or those with physical handicaps. I already had one mini schnauzer at home. He too was a rescue, and had turned into a very loving and sweet dog over the years that I had him. I thought it would be good for him to have a companion since I needed to work during the day, and he had to stay alone until I could get home again.

I drove home with the new dog, Whiskers, talking to him quietly all the way. I didn't realize then that he was deaf, and could not understand why he was not responding to my voice. He lay down on the front seat and slept, shivering. I reached for a little dog blanket I kept for my other dog behind the seat and covered him up.

When we arrived at home, I put Whiskers down on the floor, and he suddenly came alive and bounded up and down the hall, his stiff back legs lifting up off the ground at the same time and giving him the appearance of a rabbit. Spunky, the original mini schnauzer, and the two cats, Queenie and Beansie, gave Whiskers a quick mutual sniff and went about their business as always. Just that quickly, Whiskers was now an accepted member of the household. He also seemed to accept them at the same time.

In the days to come, I discovered that Whiskers shook with chills all the time and he wobbled on his hind legs. He fell down often, and he would go and stand in a corner, and stay there until I would come and turn him around. Soon I would come to understand that he also suffered from Canine Cognitive Dysfunction (CCD), a version of the human Alzheimer's. He ate well though; in fact, he ate as though he had not eaten much for quite a while. After a couple of days at home allowing him to adjust, I took him for his checkup and shots, and the vet decided to do a blood test to check his liver. When I took him back to get the results of his tests, the vet let me know that Whiskers potentially was suffering from Cushing's disease, a generally fatal disease that affects the dog's liver. Whiskers also required major dental work; apparently his teeth had not been kept cleaned over the years.

As I drove home, I felt overwhelmed. The deafness I could handle more or less. But suddenly I had all these things to deal with and was unsure how to handle it. To make matters worse, at feeding time, Whiskers would sometimes try to attack Spunky or the cats when he was waiting for his dinner. It was as though he felt threatened that he would not get enough food to eat. He also would make accidents in the house. Apparently he had always lived outside and did not know how to let me know he had to go out, nor did I know how to teach him to let me know. Had I made a dreadful mistake? Still, I looked at that little fuzzy face and fuzzy ears as he slept besides the others in my bed, and realized that even though he DID have major problems, I simply could not give him back. I also thought about another dog I had rescued years before. Tuppy had lived to be 19 years ago before going to the Rainbow Bridge, and in the end, she was blind, deaf, and had a heart murmur, but she had managed, despite her handicaps, to have a happy life until the end. But Tuppy wasn't that way when I rescued her. She got that way gradually over the years, so I had an opportunity to get used to it.

Peggy had let me know there was a mini schnauzer list, and that people shared their experiences and shared good information on special care for this breed. I quickly got on the computer and found the web site, signed on and introduced my two dogs and myself. Almost overnight I received a dozen or more e-mails welcoming me, and saw still more e-mails on the digest. I began to tell the members about Whiskers and his problems, and people wrote me back quickly with many positive suggestions.

I didn't know sign language, nor did Whiskers, so I would have to learn to figure out what his signs were when he needed to go outside. I bought a bunch of old throw rugs from the thrift store and put them down in the hallways of my mobile home. If Whiskers did have an accident, it would not go anyplace as there was vinyl flooring below. I could pick up the rugs, wash them and dry them in the evenings for the next day. I also bought a baby stroller, and wheeled him out to the front of the park, where he would use the grass in the parkway to take care of essentials. All the seniors in the park so looked forward to the little old dog in his stroller. He sat up in it proudly, and seemed to be very happy to see everyone on his way out and back. Spunky continued to use his little yard happily. The accidents almost came to a halt. Whiskers would gallop up and down the hall a couple of times when he needed to go out, so we came to have a happy arrangement for taking care of the essentials.

I put a baby T-shirt on him if he was shivering, and it seemed to stop his shivers. I folded a comforter on the rug next to the couch so he and Spunky could curl up together and stay warm while I was at work. The two old fellows slept together much of the day, so would keep each other warm. He had begun to shiver less and less as the weeks went by.

I noted that Whiskers began to fall down less and less, and would happily bound up and down the hall when I would come home every day. I would draw the two dogs up to me and rub their fuzzy faces, and they would nuzzle and run back and forth happily before going outside. Whiskers even began to take care of his necessaries in the back yard with Spunky which was definitely an advantage when it was raining or dark.

I was still concerned about Whiskers potentially having Cushing's. One of the ladies on the list had a dog with a high liver count, and she had done a lot of research on diets. She had come up with a diet of cooked ground turkey, brown rice, green vegetables, and a mix of numerous vitamins. It seemed to produce wonderful results. I figured it couldn't hurt, so I gave it a try. The dogs loved it, and each time Whiskers got another blood test, his liver count went down a little more. The vet decided he did not have Cushing's at all. Both dogs maintained a good weight, and all signs seemed to indicate the diet was working well. I also noted that as he was eating enough regularly, he seemed to stop trying to attack the others when it was feeding time. I fed Spunky and him in two separate areas, and the cats would eat up on their table so the dogs would not be tempted to eat their food. Spunky almost always left a little in his dish for Whiskers to finish up as if by agreement between the two of them.

Soon Whiskers got the first five of his big teeth pulled all at once. The years of poor dental care had caused all his big teeth to be a problem, which probably was another contributor to his high liver count. He came through the surgery OK, and would later have another five big teeth pulled, including a molar. Eventually he had only one big tooth, no top front teeth (those fell out), and only his upper and lower side teeth and bottom front teeth.

One day as I headed down the freeway with the two schnauzer guys sitting next to me in the front seat of the car, I realized what I treasure I had. It would have been so easy to have given up on the Sundown dog, but now as I saw him contentedly riding along, feeling much better and living the best life possible, I was grateful that I had kept him and helped him along in life. He is so full of life now, and while he still gets himself in those corners and stands there, I simply go and get him turned around, and he comes back to join us all. I have begun to give him a little lethicin in his diet because I have read that it helps dogs mentally. Sometimes Spunky helps him too, going up to him and bumping him with his head, and waiting till Whiskers turns around and follows him back into the livingroom. He still snores happily like a cat purring when I pick him up, even if he is wide-awake. Whiskers may be a sundown dog, but the glow of that late light will long be felt in our hearts and spirits.