Dog o' the Week–Mozzie

Found wandering the streets of Watsonville by Animal Control, the ancient Chihuahua finally found a warm bed and regular meals at the local shelter. The intake exam revealed that Moses (as the staff called him) was blind, had lost most of his teeth, had a very bad heart and some unknown bronchial infection that left him with a rather unpleasant smoker’s hack. He also seemed to suffer from neurological damage since he stumbled and swayed like a drunken sailor when he walked.
Moses. What kind of name is that?

Moses would get a week or so of TLC from the staff and volunteers before he was euthanized, since the list of potential adopters for staggering, blind, toothless, old Chihuahuas was unsurprisingly short. However, the old boy didn’t act like a dog ready to go quietly into the good night. Moses expected to be adopted. He perked up whenever he heard someone approach and would unsteadily stand to be lifted into someone’s arms. Two of those someone’s arms were mine. It was love at first sight. Little Pup Lodge has no more room for permanent residents, but we always keep a suite open for the needy.



 CAPE (Center for Animal Protection and Education) stepped in and deemed Moses a hospice case, so he could spend his final days with me. I’ve had other hospice dogs, but none quite this…perky. Mozzie (we hated the name Moses, so that was the first to go), loves his walks, loves his naps and really, really loves his food. And we, we love Valium though we don’t ingest it ourselves. Mozzie has the equivalent of what is known in Alzheimer’s patients as “Sundowner’s Syndrome.” As the day wears on, Mozzie gets more confused and anxious, snarling and lashing out at dangers only he can see. That five o’clock diazepam/peanut butter cocktail holds him (and us) over for another night.

Mozzie, post-cocktail.