When I started to get serious about writing again, my initial stabs were short-lived and short in general. Nothing would stick. I had a story set in Chicago (with our buddy Dez from A Light in the Dark) but it quickly lost its luster. I had another one I began about a serial killer truck driver. Gee, how’s he gonna kill this next person? Try having those thoughts and then go to sleep at night.
Then, I found my muse. She’s short, sweet, spoiled and just about the best friend you could ever have-my not so little mini-dachshund. So, I wrote about when she first came home with us to stay.
After my rescue dog Murphy died, I was beside myself with grief and only four days after her passing, my husband could take no more. That is when he surprised me with Sammi (Sammer Jammers, Baby Love, Fatniss, Mama’s Little Sweetheart). I had never had a puppy before-she was my first.
Over the years, as she is almost nine, we have joyed in her funny little ways and obsessed over her battle with the bulge. When you’re short and stout, every pound counts and we’ve kept close watch. The breeder told us she shouldn’t grow to be over 10 pounds yet our girthy girl has weighed in at a healthy 12 pounds for many years now. Occasionally, she has rocked the scales at 13 pounds and over and some could say we were sold a bad bill of goods, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.
Does she play fetch? Not really. You throw her beloved toy and she will go get it but she won’t bring it back to you. Is she smart? Well, she can’t play fetch but she knows when it’s time to eat, when it’s time to do her business and when it’s time to go to bed. Is she a good guard dog? No, not at all. She likes to bark and then skittishly run away. Her best attribute? Her wagging tail-there is no better way to be greeted as you walk in the door at the end of the day.
A mini-dachshund, clearly she is not. What she is is quite simply 12 (or 13) pounds of everything good.