Now 10, Daisy still puts hunting above all else. She’s good at it, too, being a Dachshund. Lethal. And although she snores beneath my desk at this very moment, I bet she’s dreaming about hunting.
She also desperately needs a haircut.
It’s election day here in the United States, but Daisy doesn’t know. And as her person I feel safe in telling you that she wouldn’t care if she did.
The Dachshund’s vocation (and obsession, if we’re being honest) as huntress sort of rejects any political thought but as her hobbies include barking at strangers and lying pink-belly-up in the sun, you might be inclined to wonder if she’s had aspirations.
Well, no. That’s one of the things I love about her; the uncomplicated, primitive nature of her being eschews anything civilized.
Bree… well, she thinks too much… so, probably. And we all know that Badger wants to rule the world…
As for me, I’m more of a Daisy today. I don’t care. Not just because I’ve been sick and feel like ick… but because it doesn’t matter. I’ve come to believe that anyone running for president these days must be mentally ill. One wants your guns and one wants a wall and it’s all control. Gun control and immigration control and meanwhile, we’re importing jihadists who want to blow us up because of some guy name Mo. It’s unreal and surreal.
Going back into Daisy mode now. At least until I drag my ass across the street to vote.
Not together, obviously. If so, the dead bird would be hanging limply from the dog’s jaws. Daisy would be very proud of herself and we would naturally have to congratulate her for the magnificent kill. Dachshund life, you know.
The dove just kept walking toward me, as if daring the dogs or I to make a move. I had to take a picture of such a bold bird.
It’s boring right now. But I think boring is good. My main functions these days are clearing out closets and watching Midsummer Murders. All good.
I didn’t renew my WP premium package, so changes… they are a’comin. Hey, a hundred bucks is… just that. And needed for other things now.