The story of how the tiniest puppy from Texas found home in Eau Claire and the humans who helped him along the way.

Diggin’ like a dachshund: Frankie’s victory dance upon unearthing “treasure”

I have the world’s cutest puppy. I’m not just biased or bragging; this fact has been attested to by the stares, squeals, and testimonies of countless friends and strangers. I’ve heard the phrase “That is the cutest puppy I’ve ever seen!” so many times in the past 2 weeks (often from random passersby while I stand groggily in my pajamas during early morning potty breaks) that I personally consider the question settled by the equivalent a large-scale study. His implausibly tiny cuteness regularly stops traffic, makes grown men cry, and has allowed him to get away with serious crimes (he’s made earnest attempts at destroying upholstery, but I still let him live in my house).

His name is Frankie, and he’s a literal handful at just 2 lbs. (I cannot overemphasize this: he is TINY), with a beautiful brindle coat, deep brown eyes, endearing floppy ears, and a feisty but friendly personality. While his curious antics and soft (tiny) cuddles bring lots of joy, he of course came with all the standard challenges of training and adjusting a pet to a new home – plus a few extra. He’s so tiny that socializing him with other dogs is tricky; they may accidentally squash him or mistake him for a squeaky toy (sort of kidding… but mostly not). And little – sorry, tiny – Frankie came with some illnesses from his cross-country journey and shelter stay.

During our first trip to the vet for a checkup and some treatments for kennel cough and a smorgasbord of worms, Frankie showed some of the expected nerves of a puppy on a car ride. Suddenly, he stopped his quiet crying, turned to place his paws on my chest, and stared at me with grave seriousness. While I try not to project too much human thought onto dogs, there seemed to be a hopeless question in the profound sadness of his eyes: You’re leaving me too?

“No, Frankie. I’m keeping you forever.”

The Journey Home

Frankie’s journey to me began in the state of Texas, where he was abandoned in a box at the side of the road with his littermates. The thought of someone abandoning newborn puppies to fate and the Texas heat rather than bringing them to a shelter is infuriating enough, but may have been a symptom of a larger issue. Due to a combination of natural disasters, ambitious no-kill goals, ‘COVID adoptions’ being returned, and some owners not being responsible with breeding or spaying/neutering, many shelters in the state have been over-capacity in recent years. To meet this overflowing need, volunteers – both individuals and organizations – foster and transport ‘excess’ animals all around the country. Shelters peruse photos of needy animals and agree to take those for whom they think they can find homes.

When you’re adorable and you know it

Sometimes this means long car trips for the animals and volunteers; in the case of Frankie and his siblings, they took their first flight before they should even have been weaned from their mother. They made their way to the Buffalo County Humane Association, where staff named them each after rock stars (Frankie was dubbed ‘Bowie’) and swiftly commenced giving treatments and vaccines, fostering, and advertising them for adoption. Due to their compassion and care, Frankie learned to approach new people (like me) with cheerful enthusiasm despite his first experience with humans being one of cruel abandonment. And thanks to their outreach online and at community events and careful screening of potential adopters, all of Frankie’s siblings had already found safe and appropriate homes. But by the time I got him at just 8 weeks old, Frankie had passed through untold hands as he travelled the country nearly end to end, with hardly enough time for any setting to become familiar.

No wonder he greeted car rides with such sad trepidation.

“Adopt, don’t shop!”

The moral virtue of adopting shelter pets may be obvious, and the slogan familiar. But I understand that for many, adopting from a shelter seems unpredictable and daunting. Unknown breed temperaments when adopting a mystery mutt with a potentially complicated background might seem like a burden, especially when pet descriptions on adoption websites sometimes read like a long list of special needs and potential concerns.

Sometimes it be like that

In fairness, while a fluffy puppy or kitten from a breeder or pet store may not come with such an upfront list of needs, this doesn’t mean that it won’t have personality quirks to learn and problem behaviors to work through, or that it won’t develop special needs at some point. And while purebreds often share some general traits and energy levels, they vary in individual personality just like mutts do. Shelters can give you a heads-up as to an animal’s individual situation and personality because they’ve spent some time with the animal. They do this in hopes of matching the animal with the correct home, so it won’t be returned to the shelter. You may not be able to accommodate the exercise and space needs of a young northern breed mix, but to a small adult dog recovering from neglect, your quiet apartment may be heaven.

My last dog was a 5-year-old pregnant stray when she was found in the middle of a brutal winter. She was skeletally thin and had an obviously broken rib that had healed a little crooked. She flinched whenever someone walked close by her or grabbed a broom. My patience in earning her trust was amply rewarded by discovering the fastest learning, sweetest, most loyal companion of my life. I can’t do justice to the joy and vindication I felt upon her first accepting food from my hand, or when I caught her sneaking out of her bed one night to play with a toy for the first time when she thought no one was looking.

If you ever find yourself wondering whether what you do in a day matters, adopt a pet from a shelter and dedicate your whole heart to showing them that life can be sweet. I guarantee you’ll convince yourself along the way.

At the library: