Beate Caspari-Rosen, MD
(1910 - 1995)
Once upon a time we had a dog name Schatzi, which means Sweetheart
in German. She was a female, medium-sized dachshund, with a long aristocratic
head, brown silky fur, short stumpy legs, flapping ears and a long
wagging tail. When my daughter had her birthday, she asked for a dog
as a present We had a family council, and my husband and I made it
clear to her and her older brother, that having an animal meant responsibility.
A that time we lived in an apartment house on 101st street and Riverside
Drive (285) in Manhattan. Our apartment overlooked a large Riverside
Park’s large lawns was a large lawn, and it was there that Schatzi
was walked. Four times a day she was taken out, kept clean, and fed.
When we agreed to get a dog, we decided on a dachshund looked at advertisements
in the New York Times for a dachshund. Sure enough, somebody wanted
to sell a ten—month old house-broken female dog. After calling the owner, we drove
to Queens and
rang the bell at a neatly kept small house; the bell was answered by loud
barking. A member of the family opened the door; and there was Schatzi defending
her home territory. We all fell instantly in love with her. After we were invited
into the house, we learned that the young couple to whom the dog belonged had
a newborn and lived with their in-laws. The baby's crying and the dog's
barking seemed to be too much for
the elderly couple.
The next evening the young husband brought Schatzi
to us and left with tears in his eyes. Here we were, the owners of
a frightened, barking, desperate animal who was running along our corridor,
which led from the front-door to the living room. We could not catch
her. If we went to the door she ran into the living room, and so, back
and forth to the room. Only after my daughter stayed under the dining-room
table where the dog tried to hide did we finally get a hold of her.
By that time it was late in the evening. We had prepared a dog bed
for her in the kitchen where we put her and closed the door. Instantly
she cried loudly, not like a dog, but like a very frantic and hungry
baby. We all went to bed, but the constant wailing did not let us sleep.
We surrendered and carried the bed
She gave us all her love and affection for seventeen years, and I still
miss her after all this time.
and dog into our bedroom, turned off the light, and there was an immediate
bump. Schatzi had jumped onto the bed. She snuggled down at the foot
end between the two mattresses and found her rightful place for life.