http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?t=821764
The above thread is a chronicle of the life and passing of my previous dogs. The links go back to the first thread about how “I can’t have a dog”
Today I brought home a new dachshund. I drove about seventy miles to get him, to Hiawatha, Kansas, and their Brown County Humane Shelter. His shelter name was Oscar, but I’m going to call him Mauser.
The name comes from, of all things, a Clive Cussler novel. I like to read his books, even if they are brain candy. In quite a few dachshunds appear, even if very briefly, a single scene or so. In the latest thriller there’s a dachshund named Mauser, probably named for the weapons manufacturers, and the name amused me. He was Oscar at the shelter.
It was a long, warm drive back to Topeka. Right now, as I type, Mauser is stretched out on the floor in front of a fan. He’s a smooth coated dachshund, brown mostly, with just a hint of dappling. Mauser is about five years old, according to the people who surrendered him, and after examination by a vet.
My cat Atilla is not pleased. He’s hiding somewhere for now, but eventually he’ll come out. He saw Mauser and the fur went up, the back arched, and the tail became a bottle brush. But he got on well enough with Nathan, so I imagine they’ll accomodate to each other.
I’d been kind of sliding into a depression, but I think already I’m feeling better.
