disabled dachshund

A Tribute to Daisy, Eddie’s Wheels Mascot

Posted by Barbara Techel


It was so hard to hear about the passing of Daisy, who for 16-years was the mascot for Eddie’s Wheels. She passed away from a stroke.  I cried like a baby reading the news.

In 2006 after researching many different wheelchair companies to have one fitted for my little Frankie, I kept going back to Eddie’s Wheels.  Their story of why they started the company because of Ed’s Doberman, Buddha, had who suffered a back injury many years ago, and how Ed designed a wheelchair for his beloved Buddha really spoke to my heart .  At the time, Ed’s vet didn’t think a wheelchair would work for the dog… but Ed and Buddha proved him wrong.

Seeing how well Ed’s dog did, the vet started referring people to Ed for wheelchairs for their pets.  Eddie’s Wheels was born out of love to help other animals thrive and live happy, long lives despite a disability.

In 2001 they adopted Daisy and here is her story from Eddie’s Wheels website:

Chief Executive Dog, Ret.  Daisy was born in Ecuador, raised in Jersey City and became disabled due to 4 herniated discs in 2001.

Judged not to be a surgical candidate, she was surrendered to the St. Francis of Assisi Shelter who contacted us about wheels.

We adopted Daisy in September of 2001.  She has been a brilliant ambassador for disabled dachshunds, demonstrating an irascible spirit and feisty attitude that challenges anyone who would dare pity her.

I agree with all my heart of what a brilliant ambassador Daisy was for disabled dachshunds.  Doxie’s do have this amazing fighting spirit and Daisy was no exception.  Her love for life on wheels is one of the main reasons I chose Eddie’s Wheels.  I fell head over heals in love with her!

It is especially hard for me knowing how these special needs pets can truly change our lives, like Daisy has done just that  for Ed and Leslie and those that knew her… and knowing I will face this someday with Frankie.

But Daisy has made such an incredible impact on the lives of many animals, proving that the word disability is just a word… give a doxie a challenge and they will take it on with their upbeat, determined feisty spirit, and let nothing get in their way.

Daisy taught us that life goes on, and when you have wheels, you can fly pretty darn fast!  She taught us to treat her no different than anyone else and as her bio said, don’t dare take pity on her.

Ed, Leslie and all the Eddie’s Wheels family, please know my heart is heavy for the loss of such an amazing dog that Daisy was, and that I will miss her greatly.  But how blessed I feel to have found you in a time of great need, and how Daisy truly inspired me and gave me hope, that my doxie, Frankie could live a full, happy, quality life just like Daisy. I’ll always be incredibly grateful.  And Frankie promises to carry on with Daisy’s message as only a doxie can do… and that Eddie’s Wheels will always be our #1 recommendation for wheelchairs for pets.

Rest in peace, Daisy… Frankie and I shall miss you very much….

As a special tribute dedicated to the memory of Daisy we share the illustration and page in our book, Frankie the Walk ‘N Roll Dog 


Everyone hopes I will walk again and I do not want to disappoint them. However, after three months, not much as changed in my legs. But Mom and Dad do not give up on me and find another way for me to walk with wheels! It is a cart made especially for dogs similar to a wheelchair they make for people.

My mom researches the internet and finds a good cart. The president of the company is a dog who looks just like me and her name is Daisy. She is also paralyzed and has a cart. One night Mom and Dad measure from the bottom of the floor to the top of my belly, the base of my neck to the tip of my tail, and then around my little chest. The cart will fit me perfectly and I will be able to zoom down the block!

Thank you again, Daisy for being our hero on wheels, and giving us hope that our little Frankie would live a happy life on wheels!

Social Taboos & A Beautiful Essay by Emily Perl Kingsley

Posted by Barbara Techel

If you follow my blog regularly you know I was struggling with some recent comments and stares my Frankie, a dachshund, in a wheelchair received last weekend.  I think because I was among so many dachshund owners at the event I attended, I thought I would receive more support.  But I realized, like any disease or challenge, others don't want to face it if they don't have to.  While IVDD is common in dachshunds with one in five being diagnosed, many do not know about IVDD and many choose to not want to know.  Sort of the theory, "out of sight, out of mind."  But it can happen and it does happen.

Not everyone is going to agree that putting a dog in a wheelchair is the right thing to do.  But it won't stop me from continuing to educate others that IVDD is not a death sentence (as so often happens they are put to sleep when diagnosed with IVDD), but rather an adjustment, and one that is not to hard to make as I have experienced.

Struggling with comments such as "What is wrong with your dog" had me taking it all quite personally.  The word wrong, as I wrote in a previous post struck a chord with me. Nothing is 'wrong' with Frankie- she just has IVDD.  She is a wonderful, happy, little dog.  I couldn't help but think how you wouldn't go up to a parent and ask their child with Down Syndrome, "What is wrong with her/him?"

But a friend who has a child with Down Syndrome who has friends whose children are in wheelchairs told me I'd be quite saddened by the comments and stares their children receive.  I thought in todays world we were past that, but to find we have a long way to go, and those social taboos still do exist.  So though I encounter it with Frankie, I can only imagine the affect it has on children in wheelchairs.  Frankie does not know what others may say, but being her mom, just like parents of kids in wheelchairs, I do, and it hurts.

But I also know the many joys and blessings Frankie has brought to my life.  I wouldn't trade having a dog who can walk normally and give up all the good Frankie has given me.  In my mind and heart she is priceless. 

In sharing my thoughts with my friend whose child has Down Syndrome, she shared with me an essay she shares with families and children.  I thought it was so amazing.  It is in the detours of life where the most wonderful things can happen– we just have to be open to them because when we are, I believe (and know) it takes us to places we never imagined… and they are places in our hearts and minds that can only be experienced by those who opened up to them.  So here is the essay (Thank you, Cheryl!):

Welcome to Holland

An Essay by Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this….

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michaelanglo David. The gondola in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands, the stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland".

"HOLLAND?" you say "What do you mean Holland? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine, and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guidebooks. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for awhile and you catch your breath, you look around and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandt's.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And the rest of your life, you will say, "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.

But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.