The photo above is of my doxie Duke looking pensively out the window. Is he watching for squirrels? The mailman? A cat sauntering across the yard?
None of the above. "Daddy," aka my husband Clark, had gone to run some errands, so Duke was standing vigil, waiting for him to return. Duke did play awhile, drink some water, etc., but he'd had enough and thought Daddy had been away long enough!
Below, Duke is sitting on Clark's legs watching me go into the kitchen (or, the "K" room we call it, since he knows what the word "kitchen" is). He usually begins pestering me around 5:00 p.m., because in his mind, it's time for me to prepare dinner. He starts by staring at me; if that doesn't work, he'll get on my lap as close to my face as possible, and whine. If I ignore him (and believe me, that's difficult to do!), he'll bark at Clark to tell me to get in the kitchen! Once I get up and head in there, he's fine, waiting patiently for me to cook. Oh, we don't give him much of our food, but I do let him lick out my plate if there's nothing spicy or verboten for doggies.
Dachshunds . . . you gotta love 'em!
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