highlight of the weekend

My love for dachshunds is no secret. I prefer them miniature and brown with a tint of auburn, but any shape and size will do. The little creatures tend to ignite spastic episodes of passionate jealousy, love, adorableness, and obsession whenever and wherever they are spotted. A dachshund spotting is unpredictable and unavoidable, and I prefer to not be held responsible for my actions. I often accost dachshund owners assuming they hold the same love and devotion for their sweetness as I do for my dear Petunia.

Sometimes that is the case.

There's this woman in my neighborhood who goes on daily walks with her little dachshund NOT ON A LEASH. The dog literally, and quite obediently, follows the woman around, about 5 paces behind her, as they waltz together throughout the neighborhood. Every time I see them on my run, I have the sudden urge to wallow around in the grass convulsing in fits of delight at the cuteness and amazingness of it all. I know in my heartofhearts that this dachshund is truly loved.

There was that one encounter with a dachshund, in the middle of the road, with a pool of blood at it's mouth, who seemed to have an unfortunate encounter with a car. The uncontrollable sobs that followed after that sighting were unpredictable and completely unreasonable. And yet so very real.

And lastly, the biggest encounter of them all. This weekend I ran into a dachshund and we completely hit it off. I don't think I even bothered to ask the owner before I picked it up and started canoodling with it. The dachshund wouldn't stop nuzzling into my neck and licking my face.

This picture about sums it up:

I mean, look at that paw in the air. Does it get any cuter? It's as if she's saying, "Oh gurl, I know. I'm the sweetest lil thang you ever did see..."