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Spring, 2004 – July, 2015
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Bill fell in love with him at the pound, because he had such big feet up on the fence. He was only a puppy, eight months old. What could he have done to end up there?
Arnie was the most beautiful wirehaired dachshund we’d ever seen, or maybe that ever was. Chiseled muscles. Strawberry blond curls. Unbelievable eyes. Strong and determined. He loved us strongly.
He was totally un-obedient. Not disobedient, really, just not interested much. Never came when we called, unless it held the promise of food.
He could be vicious, even with us. If you came too close to his bed, or a toy he had his eye on. (He shared that big basket of toys with no one.) Or if you touched him in a certain spot on his side.
But we eventually learned all these rules and lived with him for ten deeply loving years.
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