Easter Bunny Wieners

April 8, 2012 by Crusoe

So first of all, I don’t know why everyone’s been looking at me so funny today. I’ll have to ask Mum to let me see myself in the mirror pretty soon (they don’t seem to keep any mirrors at dachshund eye-level around here). Although strangely, I seem to be able to hear a bit better.

What's so bunny?

After Dad took the above picture and showed it to me, I thought for sure he had worked some Photoshop magic on it or something. But no, it’s completely real! I then realized that I have slightly morphed into a bunny. Dad says it’s because it’s Easter, but I have a feeling it’s because I’ve been eating too many of those delicious carrot doggy bones from Zuke’s Natural Dental Bones that Mum got me last week. Anyway, I’ll lay off those bones for a while to see if it helps. I definitely won’t be picking up any babes looking like this..!

Easter isn’t really the ideal holiday for a dog. In fact, it’s theoretically a more dangerous day than average with all that chocolate lying around. Good thing I don’t fancy it much. For the below picture, I can’t remember if it was the chocolate or the lady-dachshund-shape that made me smell the box. We’ll just say it was both ; )

And later that morning I even found Oakley just chillin’ in an Easter basket. I asked him what he was doing. He said he had been feeling ‘hoppish’ and wanted to lie down for a bit. He thought he remembered going to lie down on his dog bed, but when he woke up he was in a basket..

I may not like chocolate, but I definitely love bunnies! And I can’t say for all the right reasons. They are exceptionally fun to chase, and if I ever find rabbit poop, I gobble them down like Smarties. Mum and Dad get mad at me if I do that, so I have to make sure they aren’t looking. Yet, the funniest part is that if they do see me eating some, they’ll yell in disapproval my way. Of course I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear them, and then Dad will start his heavy-footed march towards me. I will watch him out of the corner of my eye, eating all that I can, until the very last second and then I’ll make my escape. That’s what you call a smooth criminal.

Now as you know, Oakley (my half-bro) has been with me a week now, with one week left. It’s been a lot of fun. I’ve been mentoring and coaching him in many aspects – specifically in the art of picking up chicks and being a babe-magnet.

Oakley’s been catching on well. Just this week I’ve taught him how to be a proper watch dog. Some key points to remember are to always stand at attention. That way you stay more alert and reactive.

Although I have to say, I don’t think Oakley fully grasps the concept of personal space. He seems to think that I am a warm, cuddly pillow for whenever he wants it. I don’t mind the occasional cuddle, but c’mon – we’re bros! Bros shouldn’t ‘cuddle’. But anyway, I don’t mind too much. I know he misses his own Mum and Dad so I try to show him a little extra love.

I have to give him credit though, he holds his own when it comes to playing ball. He’s a bit rough for such a soft, squishy guy. Sometimes I think that he doesn’t feel pain – or maybe it’s just because he has more cushion. Here’s him looking quite happy that he won that round of ball.. (and me not so much).