My name is Schultzie. I am a beautiful, chocolate brown miniature Dachshund. A dachshund, if you didn't know, is a very special breed of animal which once was used to hunt badgers. I'm really glad that they don't ask us dachshunds to do that anymore. Badgers live in holes in the ground; and I don't think I would like to crawl into a dark, dirty hole in the ground, especially if there was a nasty badger waiting for me. I should tell you right now, before we go any further. Some people, because of our long, beautiful shape, like to call us "sausage hounds". Well, that's not a very nice name, and I wish you wouldn't ever think of it when you think of me. Thank you! I'm going to be telling you about some of the things that I do with my master and mistress (that's what they call themselves), and some of the things that I do all by myself. I hope you like the stories; and I promise you that I will try to remember all the good times that I have had; and I will tell you about each one of those times. Maybe you should know more about me. I was born in the state of Missouri in 1982. I was sent to Pennsylvania by an adoption agency operating out of what they call a pet shop. I met my future parents (That's much better than master and mistress, isn't it?) in July, when it was so hot outside that I was glad that I lived in an air-conditioned shop. My future parents had a German Shepherd dog at the time; and I think they wanted to adopt me so I could help to train that big dog. Well, I liked them and told the shop owner that I was willing to be adopted; and in a day or two they took me to their home, where I have lived ever since. My first adventure wasn't so great, I guess, but you might enjoy hearing about it. I walked in the door, or rather I allowed my parents to carry me in, when here comes a giant, tan, brown, and black dog. This was the German Shepherd that I was supposed to train! I must tell you that she was even bigger than I imagined. Her head was as big as my whole body. Wow! Now don't get the idea that I was afraid, because purebred dachshunds are never afraid; but I did have to do some thinking about what I was going to do next. Do you know what it was? Well, I barked, just plain barked; but in that very special way that dachshunds have to let that big dog, her name was Tara, know that I was going to be in charge. Imagine my surprise when Tara spoke to me in her dog language. This was easy for me to understand, because we dachshunds know how to speak like a dog. This is what she said: "Welcome to this house. I hope you like it here. I am looking forward to learning a lot of things from you. I will try to be a good student." Well, of all things, I would try to be the best teacher of dogs that anyone ever saw. In my next story, I will tell you about the first lesson that I taught Tara, and how she became a better dog for my parents, all because of me.
SCHULTZIE AND HER HOUSE
After I had met my student, Tara, the German Shepherd, I wanted to find out where I would be living. Naturally, I preferred a room by myself where I could be alone if I wanted to. It seems as if my new parents had the same idea, and they offered me a room on the first floor of the house. It was not a big room, but then I don't need a lot of space; and it had some large, white furniture that was shiny and very hard. I heard one of my parents call it a powder room, but I didn't see any powder. Maybe I would see that later.
Anyway, as they got ready to go to their jobs the next day, they asked me to go in my room, and then they shut the door; really, they slammed the door. I was a little upset. I was happy to have my own room, but I liked the idea of being able to walk around the rest of the house. Maybe my parents wanted to give me that freedom, but the door knob to my room was so high that I couldn't reach it. Well, it was clear that I had to do something about this, so I shouted very loudly (my shouting sounds just like barking). No one came. I shouted louder and longer, and all I heard was my student, Tara, walking around outside of my room. Now I was angry! If my student had all that freedom, why didn't I?
|