I love my ordinary daily routine, but this week we had a new routine that was even better. Heather was off from work every day, and we slept late. Then early one morning Mike and Heather left together in the dark, without me. I was confused, but I got a Kong with kibble, so it was OK by me. When they came back a few hours later, Mike looked as puffy and slow-moving as a giant balloon in the Macy’s parade, and I don’t think he was drunk (not so early in the day, anyway).
Heather told me Mike had a “little surgery,” whatever that means. All I know is that I’m not allowed to jump on him, especially near his belly button. Mike immediately got into bed (and it was daytime, when he’s never in bed). He pretty much stayed there for a couple of days. So did Heather, except when she took me out for long walks or went to the kitchen, where she normally never goes (except to get something from the fridge). But this week she seemed to be in charge of feeding for me AND Mike, which is a lot of new responsibility. Could she handle the pressure? Well, there were a few times when her service was a bit awkward, but she compensated in other areas. Portion size, for instance, was more than generous, and that’s what true gourmands like Mike and I appreciate.
I got to stay in bed all day, too—as long as I didn’t leap onto Mike’s belly, that is. Sleeping between his legs was allowed, so I was OK with that. While I was snoozing, Mike and Heather watched a LOT of TV. They tend to go for multi-part TV series like Dexter and Downton Abbey, which are just too much time commitment for me. I only pay attention to the TV when its showing animals. I’m not as interested in dogs on TV as I am birds and small mammals, things I can chase. Another case of art imitating life.
When I did get out of bed, there were many long, soggy walks with Heather, which were a lot of fun. Heather throws the ball a lot and gives me lots of trail treats if I come when she whistles, which happens most of the time. After a few days, Mike started coming for some shorter walks, but I can tell he’s still not ready for playing fetch for 10 throws in a row or walking up the steps from the lighthouse or visitors’ center. At least his head isn’t puffed up anymore.
I had a few interesting encounters during the week. My favorite friend Lynn picked me up two times, and we rode in her car over to a house nearby where she was taking care of Kiki, a Havanese whom I’ve visited before. I like Kiki (and of course I LOVE Lynn!) because we’re really well matched in size and energy, and Kiki is still so naive that it’s easy to impose my will on her. Since my brothers Frank and Stanley are so much bigger than I am, Kiki is the one dog I know that I can truly dominate. In a good way, of course (more on that next time).
Unfortunately, my other encounter of my vacation week didn’t go nearly as well. One morning in the park a big husky chased after me, startled me from behind and dragged me to the ground by the scruff of my neck. Luckily, Heather was close and got him off me right away. I’m not sure he meant any harm, but still, who needs the aggravation? My policy is to steer away from any dogs who are bigger than me unless I’ve met them previously and left on good terms. But between what happened to me the other day and seeing the University of Washington Huskies score 56 points in their football bowl game and LOSE, I don’t have much respect for huskies these days.
To cap off the lazy week, Heather and Mike finally took me out somewhere—all the way to to Magnolia Village. We walked up and down the main drag a couple of times, stopped inside Peoples Bank, where I got a treat from the manager, and they picked up the “big present” they had promised me.
It was big; it took up the whole back seat on the way home. Turned out it was a professional framing of the poster my buddy Kihm Winship (father of Gus) sent Mike and Heather earlier this year. It shows the labels of 15 varieties of wine from California’s Weener’s Leap Winery (apparently it’s the wine dachshunds would drink if dachshunds drank wine). Take a look.
As you can probably tell from my excited wiggling above that I thought the poster’s nice, but really…why put pictures of 15 other dachshunds up on the wall when they could have captured the essence of the breed by simply hanging one photo of me? All the money they’d save by having to get a (slightly) smaller frame could buy me a lot of those premium treats and biscuits Heather gets for me at PJ’s and the Thriftway. Art or food? We all have our priorities.