Sausage Dog

It occurred to me that it's been a while since I've posted any photos of Tessa. Or talked about her, for that matter.

The Little Girl has always been a show-stopper. Whenever we're on walks, we get all kinds of action thanks to our dog. What can I say? There's just something about dachshunds. She's like a people magnet.

Children exclaim, "It's a hot dog!" or "It's a wiener dog!" and ask us if they can pet her. (We always let them, but believe it or not, Tessa's actually a bit hand shy. She will walk up to someone boldly, but the minute they try to put their hands on her? She cowers and wants us to pick her up. She's a sissy.)

Adults coo over her. We also get a lot of "Is she full grown?" questions. I think their first impressions are always that she's a puppy since she's so "small." In reality, she's just healthy. Most dachshunds are overweight, so people aren't used to seeing dachshunds of Tessa's size. You know, the size they're supposed to be.

Even when people drive past us in cars, you can always see their expressions change when they notice little Tess. We'll see them smile, or sometimes can even read their lips when they say, "Look at the hot dog."

When she was a puppy, she was so sickeningly cute that all of this activity was increased tenfold. So we're used to it by now. We've basically heard it all when it comes to comments about Tessa.

But several weeks ago, we heard a new one.

We have a Blockbuster within walking distance of our house. On nice weekend evenings, we'll sometimes walk Tessa over there to rent a movie. (We always pick her up and take her inside with us--She's really good, just hangs out in my arms, and the Blockbuster people are really nice about it.)

Anyway, we walked over there and as we approached the door, an elderly man came walking out, took one look at us, and goes "Oh! A sausage dog!"

He then told us about how so-and-so's uncle's friend's mother had a dachshund when he was growing up. (This is a common occurrence, too. Everyone knows a dachshund somehow.)

After he left, Michael and I laughed. A sausage dog.

There's just no arguing with that.