He runs like a racehorse through the house in the morning. Okay, maybe not quite like a racehorse, but you’d be amazed that a 10 year-old overweight dachshund can move that fast and that gracefully.
He has had me move his bed in the study to a place in front of the full length mirror. I catch him looking at himself in that mirror.
He likes our blue sofa but is reticent to get on it. He will climb on board when I have gone out. When I come home, I sneak up on the house and look through the front window, and catch him staring back at me from his perch on the sofa. By the time I open the door, he is off it, tail wagging, like “Nothing to see here. Welcome home.” He is Mau Mau de Mau Mau, and that is his throne. He shall use and abuse it as he sees fit.