Do you pick your dog or does your dog pick you?

Back in 2006, I was looking for a Dachshund. I really wanted a Dachshund. I knew nothing about them but in the condo I lived in, I’d see a man almost everyday, walking his Dachshund off-leash. It was so calm, cute and sweet.  Just the type of temperament I wanted in a dog (boy was I surprised :).  So I set out on my search.  I had heard of a family who had a “batch” of Dachshund puppies for sale (I know, I have rescued since) but at the time, it was hard to resist these cute little faces.  I am also proud to report that the family that had this litter were loving, caring and loved these dogs as if they were going to keep them all…so I proceeded with the viewing of the puppies.
When I got to the home, the mother (a sweet black and tan) and father (an absolute adorable chestnut colour) both smooth came running over, so excited to see a stranger they had never met before and to be honest (back in my ignorant days), I thought these were the puppies!  “Only two left?” I asked the homeowner.  “No” she said “the puppies are in there”.  She proceeded to point to the kitchen which was blocked by a baby gate, and I saw the cutest five tiny little faces all in a cluster, trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious strangers. My eye immediately went to the smaller brown one (there were three black and tan, and two brown).  “This is the one I want” I said.
“That one is the girl” she told me.
“Geez, I really wanted  boy dog” I said. “Let me take the other brown one then”.  Don’t ask why I wanted  boy dog. I think as a born again dog person (formally a cat person), I wanted the opposite of my beloved deceased Molly.  Oppose of a cat, a dog. Opposite of a female, a male.  Opposite of a black and white cat, a brown dog (ok, not really but I went with it anyways).
As my new friends drew up the sale for the little brown boy dog, I looked at my husband holding him. Something just didn’t feel right to me.  As the little Dachshunds that were the size of medium rats ran around like mini Tasmanian devils, I asked “where is the little brown girl pup?”.
“She’s right there” my husband said and pointed to my foot.  With one paw on my foot like she owned me, and half sitting on my summer clog, I turned to my new friends and said “you know what, I am going to take this little female instead”.  I swear I saw her stick her tongue out at her brother as we walked out to our new life.
Have a fun life, get a Dachshund.




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