Spanglish Accent: Dulce de Leche

dulce: (dool-seh)

adj. 1. sweet

2. soft, gentle, mild

adv. 1. softly

noun. 1. candy, sweet, dog (see photo below)

I am not a dog person. Or a cat person. Or a bird, hamster, or rabbit person, for that matter. I am an animal person. Almost all (the warm blooded ones at least) make me want to bring them home. I love having some sort of pet in my house at all times (mostly just a cat or dog - though I am up for trying the others) and for most years of my life growing up I shared my space with a four legged friend.

B on the other hand didn't know if he liked animals. At least not living with him. You see, his mother always said she already had three other living things to look after, she did not need another one. B had never lived with another species (if you discount some of his college roommates) until he moved in with me.

I broke him in gently. My cat, Shiraz, had been traumatized some time in kittenhood and did not like anyone. Even me sometimes. She didn't come out often and when she did, she was skittish and paranoid. But she was loving and purred to high heaven when she did find the courage to sit on your lap. Unfortunately, she was not able to make the trip with us to Chile. Please, don't judge. She was like a family member - but like any family member you want what is best. Moving her 6000 miles to adapt to a new home was not what was best for her. My girls didn't miss her (they had only seen less than a handful of times in their entire lives - she hid when the "monsters" were out) but I missed her to my very center. She really was a part of the family - one that now felt like it had a hole in it.

I needed a pet. Now I just had to convince B that he needed a pet.

It didn't take me too long. The girls really helped my case because who can resist two little girls looking up through huge brown eyes, batting their eyelashes, and saying "puhhhh-weeeez Papa"? And, if that wasn't enough, who could resist this...

It was love at first sight. But we still had to think about it. For about 10 minutes. You see, we had recently had a very bad experience with a puppy. When we first moved into our house here in Santiago, we adopted a Maltese. Long story short - she got very sick with the Parvo virus and died within two weeks. The girls were devastated but still wanted a puppy. B and I talked and decided it wasn't fair to have promised them a dog and then, due to circumstances out of their control, take that away.

We brought Dulce de Leche (de Leche is her middle name, according to MadHatter) home the same night we found her. And we fell in love all over again when she rolled all over the floor with the two girls, who were pulling her ears and stepping on her tail, and not one little sound of complaint came out of her mouth. She was just so happy to have found her family. We had to drag them away from each other so they all could get some sleep. (And with B - who swore he would never like a pet was right there with them). Their bond was fast, their bond was deep, and their bond knew no bounds.

And then the unthinkable happened.

Unbeknownst to us, the previous tenants of our house left behind rat poison. It's common here in South America to have it on the perimeters of your house. But if I had known it would have been gone in less than a heartbeat. The same thing that makes it enticing for rats to eat, makes it enticing for dogs to eat. And eat it she did. She is a Golden Retriever, after all. They will eat ANYTHING.

And if you don't know how rat poison works I will give you a very short version - it stops their blood from clotting. Same thing for Dulce. All of a sudden she had a huge lump above her shoulder. She was bleeding out and it wouldn't take long for her entire system to collapse. Thankfully, the vet made the house call within hours. He didn't know it was rat poison just yet but before the night was over, Dulce was in the hospital. Three blood transfusions, one surgery and a ton of Vitamin K later - she would be as good as new... But not before having to spend two weeks behind bars...

She was sprung that same month and life was good. Full of walks. Frolicking in the courtyard outside the house. Being tormented by the girls. She grew at an alarming rate. Pretty soon she was taller than Stinkerbell. And yet, she was still a puppy. Full of puppy love. For everything. Especially the girls. The girls could do no wrong (even when pulling on her ears, eyes, tail...) and they were her best friends.

So, when we were told at her one year check up that she had hip dysplasia, we were devastated This poor puppy - who had already been through so much - would now be in pain for the rest of her life. She would need therapy, surgery, pills...It was almost too much to bear. But we knew we would do anything to help her. She was a part of the family. So we set a date for surgery. When the girls and I would be gone for home leave and she could do her rehab and recuperation at the hospital without the girls having to see it all. Until then we carried on...

With love and hugs...

Some torture...

Some water play...

And a bit of rest for those poor hips...

And then the time came. Surgery. They were removing the ball of her left hip and letting the scar tissue take over. It was her bad side and by doing the surgery now, we may avoid having to do the right side in the future (she was putting all of her weight on the right side since it didn't hurt as much and was wearing that joint out fast).

She was in the hospital recovering for a couple of weeks. As much as she loved them all, she missed her family and didn't understand why we weren't there. Especially when she was in pain. She became depressed and lethargic. She had surgical complications. We second guessed ourselves for not having just put her on meds until the pain was too great to bear. What had we done to our sweet and loving Dulce?

And then she came home. We did her physical therapy. We loved her. We walked her and we just stayed with her. She pulled out of her depression. She beat the complications and she thrived. She was home and that was all that mattered to her. It was all that mattered to us.

Dulce is now in her 2nd month of recovery. She has a bit to go before things are back to normal again. Well, her new normal. She has lost most of her limp. She runs like the wind whenever a bird dares fly by and she can't help but stand on top of you, tail wagging, ever single time you come in the door. She is back to her old self.

She is the girls best friend. She is my best friend. Dare I say it, she is B's best friend.

With a face like that...