Did moving far away from your home traumatize you in any way?
What’s going on? Why did you ask that? What are you trying to get at, huh? I’m fine. FINE! Why? What are people saying about me? So I bark now, so what? So I get a little agitated when someone walks down the street. Or when I mistake someone’s reflection in the window for Osama bin Laden. Or when a leaf falls from a tree. WHAT’S WRONG WITH THAT? AREN’T DOGS SUPPOSED TO BARK?
Sheesh.
Will you let me hold you in my lap and rub those silky soft ears this weekend? I find it soothing. (Does that make me sound like a deviant?)
Yes. And yes, but only to those who have not felt the wonder of my ears. I’d give anything to have fingers.
What is your favorite part of your new, beautiful neighborhood?
I like to walk with my masters down to the lake. When we get close to the water, I try running (my masters are too lazy to keep up) but I’m stuck on the leash. The effect of my pull and their resistance makes me look and feel like I’m running in slow motion, which gives me a very cool Baywatch vibe.
You should try it.
What is your least favorite?
One word: Petey. Petey is the seventy-five-pound miniature dachsund that lives around the corner and has vowed to eat me for lunch with fava beans. Me no like Petey. Petey’s paws are the size of a cell phone. (But not a new, slim, sleek cell phone–an old, clunky, oversized cell phone with an annoying ringtone.)
Were you traumatized when we got rid of your dog-cousin after only two months?
You WHAT? Why wasn’t I told this before? My masters told me that Dolly went to visit her cousin on a farm for a few months!
Wait a minute—if Dolly’s not on the farm, then who keeps replying to all of my postcards?
Why haven’t I been added to the blog roll?
Quite simply, my master is an idiot. She has a hard time telling the difference between things she has thought about doing and things she has actually done. Which is why she believes that she once toured with Regina Spektor. Not so.
You should forgive her, though. What she lacks in blogging etiquette she makes up for in German Pancakes.
Is that one of those shocking collars you’re wearing?
A what? I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is my new blingity-bling-bling necklace that my masters bought me. It’s super fly. When I walk around outside with it on, it makes this trippy beeping noise. I usually act like the beeping noise startles me, but that’s just a show for all the fellas.
Occasionally, if I’m feeling really bodacious, I wait for three beeps and then I do this uber-fantastic dance I call the Yelp and Run Away. Britney Spears wishes she had this necklace.
Do you want me to call PETA?
Do you mean PETEY?
No. No, please don’t call Petey. Petey has iiiiiiiiishoooooooooes.
Oh Lucy — do you miss me?
Oh, I do. I do, I do, I do. You are the only one who lets me lick with abandon. And I neeeeeeeed to be able to lick with abandon. (My master has issues as well. But again, the German Pancakes make up for it.)
It seems as if your master has a daily visit with me, daily. Why is she so shy about admitting it?
Seriously, if you saw this woman all day long each day as I do, you would simply marvel at the fact that anything gets done around here at all. I’m no doctor, but I’ve been reading up on the Internet at night and I’m pretty sure she has ADD.
How do you feel about dogs and cats living together? pro or con?
I believe that dogs and cats have the right to choose whatever lifestyle they desire. While I can’t imagine living with a cat, I can’t judge those dogs who do. I believe that dogs and cats should have equal rights and that our country is only strengthened when all household pets are truly free to nap and sniff and lick themselves without judgement.
Can dachsunds actually lift their leg to go potty? (I am sure you are a “squatter”)
The only other dachsund I know is the aforementioned Meaty Petey. And the one time we met, I did not have time to ask him this question because he was too busy threatening my life and I was too busy wetting myself in the “terrified doggy” stance, rather than the “squat.”
Does it bother you (being female and all) to be called a “weiner dog”?
No more than it should bother you (and by “you” I mean all of you humans out there) to be called a “giant bossy turd who refuses to share your food.”
