Life with Jasmine, Juliet and Buttercup, Our Rescued Dachshunds

Random notes on our experience with THREE rescued miniature dachshunds

A Stay at the PetsHotel

on May 8, 2008

My husband and I had to go back East for a family wedding and to attend to some business this past week, and given Jasmine’s lack of invitation to return to our friends’ home, we decided to board Jasmine at PetSmart’s PetsHotel.

For $25 per night, Jasmine would get a small “Atrium” room (aka kennel) in their indoor, temperature controlled facility.  Since she’s not a real social dog and is pretty intimidated by other dogs, I didn’t sign her up for the “Doggie Day Camp” or “play time” sessions.  However, I did indulge in one add-on–a daily “Treat Time” consisting of doggie ice cream and a cookie.

I reluctantly brought Jasmine down to the hotel, and they checked her in.  I had put her in the facility once before for a single night, so all her info was current, including her feeding regimen.  They don’t charge extra for providing your own food or special dietary needs.

The handler came out with a name tag for her and to bring her back.  Jasmine became “bucking bronco” dog, and she fought the handler.  *sigh*  The handler was firm but gentle with her, and finally got her calm enough to take her back into the kennel room.  As Jasmine was walking through the door, she looked back at me with large, sad, scared eyes.  I don’t think I’ve felt that bad in a long time.  I felt so guilty for leaving her there.

I called there the next day to see how Jasmine had acclimated.  I was put on hold as they searched for the handler, and when she got on the phone, she said that she would get Jasmine to put her on the phone!  Huh?  What was I to say to her, “Be brave little doggie, mom will be back soon…” as the handler made gagging faces to her buddies?  And what would Jasmine really think…it was me, but in a different form?  Um, no.  I just promptly told the handler that I didn’t want to talk TO the dog, but about how the dog was doing.  She was not eating her food, but she did manage to scarf down most of her ice cream.  Yeah, that’s my dog!  She also hadn’t “gone” yet, so I clued them in on her “go” words.  That worked well.

I called every day for four days until the handlers were probably rolling their eyes at the overprotective mommy.  Yes, she was fine and had adjusted well.  Yes, she was eating.  Yes she was doing her business.  Okay, so I was just trying to lessen the guilt for leaving her in a kennel.  A KENNEL!  What a terrible mom I am?  Couldn’t I have placed her in an in-home overnight care place?  Well, at $45 a night, um, no.  Let’s be frank…it just costs way too much.

So, I picked up my precious this morning.  She had been groomed before I got there, her bedding had been washed, and she was wearing a cute little bandana–a final touch from the grooming session.  Her coat was shiny, and she came running at me with a huge waggedy tail. She cried all the way home.  She romped around on HER lawn.  She ran into HER house.  She was home.  And while I still feel a bit guilty for taking her to a kennel, she was well cared for, she’s healthy, and she’s just fine and dandy, back to her routine.

Maybe next time will be easier.  Uh, probably not.

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