birthday boy

dear diary,
GUESS WHAT - today is my birthday and i am three years old. that means i have been on this earth for three springs, three summers, three falls, and three winters. can u believe it? i wasn't sure if we were going to do anything special, but looky - my mom made me a birthday crown!



but wait, that's not all. original duk duk, bunnito bunnalini, ropey ramjet, beaver, and even flat hedgehog and a piece of duk duk 2 came out to help me celebrate. we had lots of fun but things sort of got out of hand during our group photo. what can i say, i was really excited.



mom says i'll be getting brunch in bed so i best get all settled by george so i can be ready for my birthday meal. i hope u have a super weekend!

toodles!
b.

goodwill hunting

Our little sun loving kielbasa was in hog heaven yesterday as he rode about in the easy bake oven that is my car on sunny cold winter days. Sitting high in his backseat snoozer, Baxter has perfected the art of car riding, barking at strangers who wave at him when we are at a stoplight, taking occasional drinks of water from a plastic cup mounted in his wally world cupholder, and alternating between lying under and lying on top of his bright red down throw.

Yesterday's errands took us to the parking lot of a nearby mall, so I could meet up with a customer who wanted to buy another purse. After our encounter, it only seemed fair that if I had already de-hagged and gotten dressed for the civilized world, that Baxter and I would go the long way home and visit some fabric stores and goodwills in search of creative candy to add to my ever growing stash of inspiration.

When Baxter accompanies me on my journeys, I try to park in sunny spots where I know I can still see little chumley, and from the Goodwill store window I could tell that Baxter was fine, gently baking and looking much like a Pillsbury crescent roll being browned and plumped by the oven heat.

I checked out with a fine haul of goods a grand selection of vintage and not so vintage silk and poly neckties in super swell shades of red, green, blue and cream, with a heavily textured red cotton knit sweater thrown into the mix. Totally inspiring eye candy for me that I immediately dumped onto the floor to photograph when we came home. But a total disappointment for little Poppin Fresh, who kindly intruded on my efforts as if to tell me that he would have preferred something more edible. Next time, mom, let's buy rawhide, ok?

boo boo

Yesterday I found a tiny boo boo on Baxter's nose. A medal of honor, it would seem, from Monday's rumble in the jungle.



A special and random thanks, by the way, to Bludog for the extra goodies in the package I finally opened that contained Miss Molly's marked up prototype harness. A girl can never have enough fabric or trim, so many thanks for sharing!!

cold turkey

Apparently all it takes is an office visit to the vet to quiet Baxter's digestive system. That always happens, doesn't it? The vet had asked that we submit a new log lotto ticket within 24 hours, but other than an early morning soft n stubby that I figured was still residual from his "mixed" diet, Baxter's bottom didn't produce a ticket of any sort yesterday. A sharp contrast from these past few days when we were graced with tickets not once but four, maybe even five times a day. How dare his bottom turn me into log lotto junkie only to shun me once I became addicted?

Tiny chumley took advantage of his frequent outings, making himself a blur as he bounded about chasing squirrels while I stood with ziploc in hand, anticipating the log that never came. Still, a memorable and happy day for our boy, who achieved a new personal best of coming to within a doxie's length of the enemy thanks to the squirrel's indecisiveness for evasive action.

log lotto

Amidst all the consternation of these past few weeks getting ready for shows and holidays and visitors, Baxter's digestive system must have decided that it, too, needed some attention. We were oblivious at first to the gentle pleas it made last Tuesday, manifested in a slightly gassier and noisier pup who would make slightly grunting old man noises as he sometimes does when we pick him up or move him, only this time with more frequency than usual. Weird but kinda cute, we thought, and went on about our business.

Phase two of his digestive system's efforts to get noticed worked like a charm on Wednesday evening, as Baxter's bout with HGE has trained us to be wary of loose stools. Did he snarf some decaying delicacy when we weren't watching the last time he hunted in the back yard? Did he find a morsel of something one of our houseguests accidentally drop? Whatever happened, we knew we had to work to bind his stool and hopefully stave of digestive disaster. Ratios of wet to dry, of fiber to water, of overall portions and timing were all managed over the next four days in hopes of satisfying Baxter's digestive system's need for attention.

With each mealtime experiment, I began to notice that taking Baxter out back to do his business felt more like watching the lotto draw to me as I stood there, eagerly anticipating every inch of stool the way a ticket holder holds out hope with every powerball number drawn. Every inch of stool was a number on my special lottery ticket, and I would win if Baxter's colon gave me a string of numbers that were all nicely formed, finely colored, and firm. Four times a day and inch by inch, my hopes would either raise or fall and I would adjust the ratios and timing of his diet accordingly.

By the time Sunday closed, we were feeling cautiously optimistic that we were close to winning the jackpot on Baxter's log lotto. But, alas, by Monday morning the bright pinkish red streaks in Baxter's stool told me we could no longer manage our trials without some professional input.

"Slightly odd in consistency though parasite free and with traces of undigested rice" is where we currently stand after visiting the office of our backup vet, who dutifully dissected and inspected the stool samples we brought back to his office when an invasive sampling provided little to inspect from our empty boy. Most likely Baxter did get into something that didn't agree with him, which only made me more determined to one day mount a video camera on his head so we can review footage of his comings and goings during times like this.

We left the vet's office with orders to discontinue the fiber and feed him only dry kibble, in frequent and smaller amounts, and watch for any serious changes in his stools like a large amount of blood, a change in color to dark almost blackish stool, vomiting, or a change in Baxter's chipper and hungry demeanor. And by all means, provide another stool sample in the next 24 hours. Yessssss, I'm sure Baxter's digestive system proclaimed in his best Napoleon Dynamite voice. Another person to play my game of lucky log lotto.



So today, it's all about tiny kibble meals and quart sized ziplocs. Little boy seems no worse for wear, save for the odd poops. In fact, he's been rather chipper, if not inquisitive. I'm sure he thinks we're nuts, fussing about his behind and the stinky stuff that comes from it. Who knew, he'll think, that my poop is so wonderful that mom wants to bag it and give it to people as gifts.

sunday afternoon

I would have never chosen to do shows were it not for doing them with my friend Robin, never done as much exploring as I have done in these past recent years. We did yesterday's show in my neck of the woods, outdoors in an old historic neighborhood chock full of houses with interesting architecture and tree lined sidewalks, all only minutes from our house, but an area into which I have never ventured. Robin and I were placed in the yard of a turn-of-the-century mansion, a boo radley-esque structure complete with rusty iron gates that only amplified its recently abandoned look, though we were told that the house was still inhabited. A rumor that we first doubted, until we realized the familiar poopy aroma we were smelling was coming from not from the sidewalk outside the fence but rather the inside fence where we were, in the very area we had selected to set up our display. A minor setback that caused a few minutes of consternation, but that was soon cleared things up with a bit of raking and a refresh on the strategically placed lavender sachets we were selling as stocking stuffers. An ounce of quick thinking, as you might imagine, is worth more than a pound of planning in the crazy world of crafting. We left for home chilled to the bone and exhausted, but happy to take home a much lighter load than what we started out with thanks to all the folks willing to make new homes for the things we had made.





I suspect were it not so cold out, Baxter would have enjoyed keeping us company during the show, taking in the scenery and sniffing around in search of the source of that awful poopy smell. Wondering what all the hubbub was about when folks would want to pet him. But as it was, little kielbasa still thoroughly enjoyed his afternoon of peace & warmth with his dad, dozing off together on the sofa while the television droned on in the background. Two very different ways of spending a Sunday afternoon, with the same satisfied outcome.

my christmas tree tour

hey everybody! mom is pooped from her show today and so i thought i would write about my christmas tree ornaments. they are all doggies, and some of them are even ones like me! my mom hopes to add more handmade ones in the coming years. maybe i should make her one with my paw print?

anyways, i hope you had a great weekend!!

toodles,
b

my christmas tree

dear diary,
hey looky what i found by the fireplace - my own christmas tree! some day i'll take you on a tour of all my ornaments. mom says this tree belonged to my granduncles Kep and Padua and so there are some really old ornaments on there - like, over ten years old which is like forever, right? anyways, now that i have my own tree, i hope this means santa brings me more presents. i sure could use another dinosaur bone.

toodles!
b.

sleeping beauty

Little Kielbasa slept most of the day yesterday, occasionally moving from one cozy flannel blankie covered bed to another as he tried to keep both mom and dad company while we worked in opposite ends of the house. Lately, it's been a challenge for Baxter to catch all the shut eye he normally gets, with our schedules being unusually unpredictable because of work, visitors, and preparation for shows. Tiny wheels in his head whirr furiously, trying to maintain a delicate balance between staying aware of all that's going on, and getting the shut eye he needs.

I suspect that's why Baxter gave me the look he did today, after I accidentally woke him up from a deep snooze while taking his picture. Please promise me you'll wake me up if you go somewhere or see some squirrels, will you? I'll just be right here, sleeping.

the six stages of super effective dachshunds

Well hello there. My name is Baxter Carnegie, award winning author of such best sellers as "Cuteness and Cunning: Making it Work for You" and "Mastering Your Master: Three Easy Steps to Success". I'm here to tell you about my new book, "The Six Stages of Super Effective Dachshunds". Tired of having to work for your food? Just rescued and not sure of where you stand with your humans? Is your Timmy making you do tricks for toys? Whether you're new to your family situation or just need a little help training your old humans new tricks, I want to show you how to stop the toy taunting and get what you want from your humans. Quickly. Effortlessly. All using the skills you already have.

Now, I wish I could share everything I've learned in the time we have together, but we can't. Here's a peek at the six stages we will discuss that will help you become more effective in getting your way: curiosity, attentiveness, bargaining, barking, persistence, and victory. Yes that's right, my cohesive plan always ends in victory.

So whether you're looking to play with your new Christmas toyfriend three weeks early, or just want to be fed from the dinner table, make sure to order your copy of "The Six Stages of Super Effective Dachshunds" today.

Thanks for your time. My name is Baxter Carnegie, and I want to help you become a better dog.

whorling dervish

I'm pretty sure it's the ampleness of Baxter's behind that causes me from time to time to snap photos of his round derriere. So pleasingly plump, and graced with two mysterious swirling eddies of fur, spinning in directions opposite from each other.

I like to think the whorls are a visual joke, courtesy of mother nature. Signs of a storm of a different sort. Beware, my children, of the winds that emanate from this behind.

third shift

Despite the fact that I've always known that I should be making things year round, some crafty ideas don't hit me til the eleventh hour, when I'm finally in the spirit of the season for which I'm making things. That's how I ended up toiling away at 1:30 in the morning, experimentally shaping, baking, drilling, wrapping, and gluing my idea for this year's christmas ornament, buzzed like an elf high on caffeine, working third shift in Santa's workshop.



Thing is, rarely is caffeine's really necessary when I'm focused on making something I want to see finished. At least not while I'm actually making stuff. The day after is a totally different story. Little Kielbasa kept me company as he always does on my late night adventures, and today we both yawned through our morning Etsy photo shoot. Tonight, early to bed for this four legged elf.

squirrel watching

dear diary,
this past weekend i got to walk to the park with my mom n dad and grandad and grandma and my uncle so how cool was that? plus we sat in our favorite secret hideaway and got to watch squirrels. at least that's what i did anyway. today grandma, grandpa, and my uncle are leaving for their home. i sorta wish i could go with them cuz they're really good at dropping food on the floor for me to snitch. but then again i really like my home, too.

well, that is all for now. hope u had a great turkey day!!

toodles!
b.

five card draw

There are some things in life that I am certain Baxter should never try were he actually able to do them. Like climbing Mt Everest because he hates the cold, or working at a rawhide factory because he'd eat way more than he would ever get paid.

And then there's playing poker, a card game of skill that also requires a mastery of the art of bluffing. Whether he's hiding his rawhide or himself in plain view, I'm just not sure our little pup has what it takes to fake his way through anything.

Such was the case when I came home with our nifty new old peanut pup from the flea market and thought I'd take advantage of the light for a photo op before our evening walkies. We're done now, he quickly proclaimed, only a few shots into our session. Here ya go, here's that peanut thingy. Now let's go walkies.



Yep, what you see is what you get with our little boy, and that suits me just fine.

doxie di milo

Baxter usually likes to make himself scarce once he figures out we're leaving him behind and containment in our bedroom is inevitable. Most of the time, he chooses dimly lit nooks and crannies in which to conceal his sausagey body, emitting nary a peep as we wander the house looking for him. Yet I wonder if he'd have any better luck hiding out in the open, standing still like a statue amongst all the other doxie stuff we've accumulated over the years. Today, we are off with my folks to scour the flea market for treasures, whilst Baxter's dad stays behind with the little kielbasa to work and hopefully catch up on some rest. No hiding necessary today, but it never hurts to practice.

searching for hootie

Making stuff for shows has been an interesting adventure, to say the least. Had I not taken the plunge, I would have never met my friend Robin, and had I not met my friend Robin, I would have never been doing a show in the studio of a marsh front home this past weekend, standing on the same street as lives Hootie himself, former pop star turned country singer Darius Rucker. Sounds almost glamorous, doesn't it? But I should also mention that had I not taken the plunge, had I not chosen to do this show, I also would not have been I have been sleeping in a chilly RV that hadn't been aired out in weeks, awakened in the middle of the night by the scratching noises of a mysterious animal that sounded to be a mere and alarming two feet from my head. All just a day in the life, really.

I've learned over the years that sometimes it's best to let go of life's steering wheel and see where it takes me. Most of the time, it all works out, and because of that I can hardly complain when I am greeted by some nocturnal creature who would probably be just as afraid of me as I would be of him. I never saw what it was scratching away in the middle of the night, just as I never met Hootie. But just as Baxter lives to hunt another day, so must I walk in my valley of fabric, in search of hooties.

happy thanksgiving!

humbugged

I have a feeling tiny tumnus won't be fully engaged in the spirit of sharing and giving that typically permeates this holiday season. Sure he's wonderful with toyfriends and even something precious like his rawhide, but there is one thing he doesn't want share at all, the attention and love he gets from the humans who rescued him.

Robin and her daughter left for home this morning, and it seems an almost audible sigh of relief came from our little kielbasa boy. It's not that he doesn't enjoy their company, for he dearly loves them same as he comes to love all those who enter our household and stay a while, but it's the shift in activity that seems to cause him most concern, that causes him to amp up his impish behavior in hopes of regaining the attention he feels is rightfully his and his alone. Socks get mysteriously strewn about, the backs of my hand are gently nibbled, and anything I am working with on the floor is greeted by a cold wet nose and sat upon until there is nothing else I can do other than move the tiny offender in my lap.

Baxter sleeps peacefully now that zen is restored to his home, though he doesn't yet realize that another batch of family distractions is due to arrive this evening. Sleep well, little fella. There's a lot more imping to do in the coming weeks...

george sandwich

dear diary,
yay! now that mom is home i can do what i love doing best this time of year, hangin with my buddy george cuz it's cold n gray out. which is a good thing too cuz i hear i might be busy helping mom play some game called ketchup. she says she's going to play it all day. wow, it really must be fun.

well that is all 4 now. i hope u r having fun today, too.

toodles!
b.

connect four

dear diary,
yippee! dad's been helping me count to four so today should be the day mom's coming home! i sure hope dad knows how to count right, else i'm gonna totally feel like he sunk my battleship. i mean, with mom gone, he's been like totally living in candyland, eatin leftovers from the trick or treat basket, so who knows if he can count to four anymore, know what i mean? plus he had like a monopoly on that basket, cuz he wasn't sharing anything with me. that just boggles my mind.

well, i better help dad clean up before she gets home. the floor is lookin a little scattergories with all my toys everywhere.

yahtzee!
b.

my buddy dad

mom's away and that makes me sad,
yet hangin with my dad
ain't so bad,
especially at night,
when i get to sleep
in mom's half of the bed.

- baxter, 2 years and 11 months old,
bragging to his park buddies

if i had ten dollars...

dear diary,
i don't really understand what dollars are, but duk duk says that if you have a lot of them, well u can make a lot of things happen. so here are some things i would do if i had TEN whole dollars (that's a lot, right?):

• donate to DRNA to help more doxies like me get rescued
  
• buy enough rawhide so every doggie can have one under his christmas tree this year
  
• install a doxie door so i can hunt whenever i want to
  
• take some mechanical engineering classes, preferably at MIT but Stanford will do
  
• make my own jet pack so i can keep up with the squirrels, even if they climb a tree
  

hmm, i'll have to think about what to do with the left over money.

toodles!
b.

til we meet again

dear diary,
i can't believe mom is leaving me again! she told me to count to four, cuz that's the number of days she'll be gone, but i can't even count to one so I think that's gonna be hard. i am so glad that dad is still here with me. maybe we can eat a block o cheese or have some french fries while she's gone. i won't tell if he won't.

sigh. well, i guess i'll keep writing til she comes home. talk to u again tomorrow!

toodles!
b.

dapper doxie wear: a followup with oskar

Before I leave, I just wanted to send out some hugs and wishes for a speedy recovery to Baxter's dapper doxie buddy Oskar. Oskar is the suave black and tan mini, whose mom chose a couple of fabric selections a month ago for his winter wear harnesses. Oskar was quite the trooper, modelling his duds despite getting a case of the urpies. Hopefully he's all better now. It's mighty hard to be your dapper self when you're tummy's feelin green, isn't it, Oskar?

Get well soon, buddy!

cribs & crunchies

hey everybody! baxter here, your roving rover reporter reporting to you today from a very special place. my home!

now some of you might know that i usually work for my meals and so mom and i practice all sorts of tricks i know. but that's only phase one. i get to eat my yummy phase two right here, and i don't have to share it with anybody like i did in my original home. my food bowl is here on the left and my water bowl is on the right. i wish they were both filled with food, though.

anyways, u may notice that even though i don't have to share my food, i still have some company when i eat. being surrounded by art helps food taste even better, don't you think?

well that's my tour for today. sometime i'll show you what's in my treat n toy drawer. maybe you can help me take some things out, know what I mean?

a tale of two bathtimes

No doxie we have ever had really loved bath time. It's just not their thing, really. As Padua grew older and as his genetic deficiencies took hold, bathtime became a weekly requirement, complete with medicated shampoo that had to sit on his bony body for at least five minutes. Five long, shivering minutes. That's when George really entered this household, to blow gentle heat on our little old man and restore a modicum of dignity to Padua's time in the tub.

After sufficient time had passed and Padua was given a final rinsedown, dad would swaddle him up like a Russian newborn baby, and together they would sit til both were fast asleep. A quiet end to bath time, and a memory we still cherish.

Little chumley, on the other hand, has a different take on what his after bath time experience should be. Ready to remove all evidence of what just happened, he barely lets the towel touch him before he is off like a rocket, runnning the hallways time and again until finally he catches whiff of the perfect spot to start his roll n restink process.

Once satisfied he can live with his new smelly self, Baxter drains the last bit of bathtime energy he has acquired with either an invitation to chase, or a barking session by the bedroom window. As if to let the world know that despite this setback, he is still mighty ruler of his domain. Watch out squirrels, I may be clean, but I will still hunt you down.

boy, interrupted

Baxter's potty habits as of late have been extended affairs, made all the more time consuming because of the extra fiber we've added to his diet to facilitate natural anal gland expression. Through trial and error, he has learned not to walk off until his duties are completely finished, so as to not be dragging his tenacious and sometimes almost footlong friend behind him. A normally relaxing and contemplative time, really, for both Baxter and his dad. But yesterday was a different story.

Two squirrels in the heat of a territorial battle whizzed by Baxter's face as his body teetered in the midst of afternoon poop. Caught mid-log, there was nothing that the little kielbasa could do, other than squat with an anguished look on his face and wait like a little kid ready to open presents on Christmas morning.

Moments later, Baxter was ready to join the battle, but the war was already over.

mad skills not included

A bountiful score of old keys, vintage brooches, and tarnished silverware scored at the flea market on yesterday, thanks to my favorite vintage crack vendor Randy and a few other favorite buddies. I can't wait to mess with my new goodies, though I suspect it's time for me to acquire some mad skills in the metal joining department if I'm gonna see some of my new ideas to their fruition. A Christmas present idea for me from the hubby, maybe, if I can find the right books or class to take.

Tiny Tutankhamen joined us on our Sunday foray, keeping his nose glued to the ground in hopes of scoring his own sort of treasure, of a decidedly edible nature. The search for delicious trampled popcorn. It's always highlight for this doxie's day out at the market, though meeting new people and shaking their hands comes in a close second once he remembers a reward comes with every shake. So close a second that sometimes when he makes the connection and there is little floor corn to be found, he confidently wanders up to kindly strangers and offers to shake their hand, looking back at me expectantly, as if to tell me payment is due in full at the time of services rendered. Yep, just another fine day in the life of a wiener dog and his crafty mom.

nice day for a walk, eh?

tiny little feet
take me where i like to go.
i'd like to run, please.

- baxter, 2 years and 11 months old,
happily trundling to the park.

sparkle and shine

With all the rain we've had this week, good natural lighting has been a scarce commodity. A bit of a shame, since the leaves are in full chromatic glory and a bit of sunlight would make for an absolute high def backdrop for our kielbasa's second autumn. But the overcast weather has provided an opportunity, at least, to use my camera's much avoided flash feature.

I tend to avoid using the flash as much as possible when taking pictures, mostly because I think it tends to wash out the things I find interesting like texture, color, and shadow. But I now realize using the flash with Baxter helps bring out features I don't quite get to think about in other circumstances, like his e-red slightly liver nose & brown eye rims, and in particular, the glossy shine of his youthful coat. Something to fondly look back upon when he's old and gray like the boys, but for now, something I would take for granted were not for reminders like this.

I don't think Baxter is quite sold on our indoor lightning machine, based on his look in this picture. But I'm sure he'll take what he can get if it means mom can be done with taking pictures that much faster. Enough with the picture taking, he says. The electric blankie is nice and warm so let's get on with the business of cuddling, okay?

baxter andretti

A formula one racecar has replaced our wiener dog as of late. Bolting from one place to another in our household, Baxter's throttle is stuck on full. The ants in his pants, I suppose, have gained control of his gas pedal. They want out, and Baxter couldn't agree more.

Before I left for the show, we had started walking Baxter on the short route around the neighborhood. But with work keeping dad busy while I was gone and now with the remains of Ida still blustering about, our tiny oscar meyer wienermobile hasn't even left the driveway. Poor little wiener. With such optimistic eyes he looks at us, tells us it is time to leave this prison and enjoy the great outdoors.



Thankfully, there's supposed to be a break in the weather tomorrow. If a sudden whoosh of rustling leaves and a tiny blur of blaze orange goes flashing by, know that it is Baxter, racing with the wind.

blankie boy

dear diary,
well wouldn't u know mom got me something after all - a new turquoise blue blankie!! it came in really handy cuz it's been rainy n cold so i decided to spend most of the day under covers in my bed with george on. mom says for a while there all she saw was my tail, i was buried so deep. eh, what else am i gonna do on a rainy day besides enjoy it by dreamin of hunting rabbits n squirrels?

toodles!
b.

doxie epoxy

Little boy stuck like glue after I came home yesterday night, ignoring George and his numerous comfy beds in favor of my lumpy, shifty lap. A price he's willing to pay, I suppose, to ensure his pack stays together.

In the two years we've had Baxter, we've only been away from him once, when he a bout with HGE caused him to spend the night at the emergency vet . We've been lucky that one of us can stay home with Baxter if the other has to travel, and that Baxter travels well, so that we can take him with us when we drive to visit family and friends.

I wonder what it will be like, the first time we actually have to board him. There's so much doxie epoxy keeping this pack together, they'll have to break out the industrial strength solvent just to break us apart.

no souvenirs?

dear diary,
yippee! mom finally came home. i'm really happy she's back but i sniffed these bags and she didn't bring me any souvenirs. what up wit dat???

o well, at least our pack is back together! i got to run and help unpack the rest of the stuff so i guess i will write more tomorrow.

toodles!
b.

a fine time

Sometimes it helps to be the odd duck in the house, or in this case, the only people crazy enough to mount branches on ladders and ladders on tables as part of our colorful booth display at yesterday's show. Folks were thankfully receptive to the point of view my friend Robin and I presented, and so traffic was steady throughout most of the day with just enough breaks for us to catch our breath and tidy up our display.




Robin and I will be spending today wrapping up loose ends, getting things like twinkle lights for the branches and more lighting to help illuminate our display for future shows, and dyeing fabric and swapping ideas for things to make to round our our offerings for our next show, the weekend before Thanksgiving. Out of town for both of us this time, a road trip. As always it will be a swell time, though I suspect if Little Kielbasa had his druthers, he'd want to come with us. Forget practicng his freestyle moves, perhaps it's time to teach him how to work the credit card machine...

daily baxtering

Sooner or later my daily posting streak is bound to end, but not today. May every lap be filled with a doxie this fine Sunday morning. I know I miss mine.

baxter rumored to be in celebrity rehab

Missing from the public eye for over two weeks, questions have arisen as to Baxter the Dachshund's whereabouts. "It was like, poof!" said one pupperazzi photographer. "I mean, one day he's takin walks like he always does and the next thing we know, this van pulls up to his house, he walks in and out of there with his tail tucked, and then there's been no sign of him at all after that. People say he's in rehab for that there destuffing habit but you know, I just don't know."

Sources close to the Baxter camp have offered no reason for Baxter's low profile, nor would they comment on photos recently obtained by The Smoking Tail, said to be taken at a secret rehab facility for celebrity dachshunds just outside of Baxterville. "From the looks of it, I'd say Baxter has enrolled himself in a toyfriend sensitivity training program." said the Smoking Tail's resident rehab expert, Dr. Sheepy McStagger. "And from what I've heard about Baxter, I'm sure he could use it. This here picture is classic desensitization training. I mean, who would want to de-stuff his own kind? It's gotta start somewhere."

When will Baxter return to the spotlight, and when he does, will he be a kinder, gentler friend to his toyfriends? Stay turned as the Smoking Tail works to fetch you the facts.

the jig is up

Baxter was his usual helper self yesterday, the day of his homecoming. Squirrels danced in the trees while we took last minute pictures of things I had made the night before. Another fine day according to the Book of Kielbasa, til the little boy caught sight of me packing my clothes and car for today's journey.

Oh FUDGE, his face proclaimed, channeling his best Ralphie face. I gave all that help just so you could LEAVE me?

oh fudge sound bite  A Christmas Story sound bites

And so the jig was up. We have a ritual whenever we leave the house and kielbasa can't come with us. Just before putting him upstairs in his crate, Dad holds our boy high so I can give him a kiss, and Baxter snubs me, witholding the lick that he is otherwise so generous to give. My punishment, which I so richly deserve. How dare we ever leave our little buddy behind?

an early thanksgiving

Even before Halloween arrived, stores were stocking their shelves with Christmas items and decorations this year. A sign of the economy, I know, but also a reminder in my mind that the celebrations in life don't have to be bound to tradtitional dates, or the timing of specific decoration.

Today, for instance, marks the day our chub chub first planted paws in our home. As this early picture of Baxter illustrates, we were both unsure of what our futures held that night, yet we trusted each other enough to know that somehow we would make it work.

For little kielbasa, I'm sure today is just a day like any other, save for the fact that he can't hunt just yet. But for me, this is my day of thanksgiving, the day I am grateful this little wonder stepped into our lives and enriched it, merely by being his little sausagey self. I'll take Christmas decorations in October, just as I'll take my Thanksgiving now, without a turkey or pilgrim in sight. Every day is a holiday with Baxter in the house.

fashionable threat level: orange

Tiny helper didn't get off that easy yesterday. If he was gonna help, he may as well help. Tired of missing out on the shot every time this oversized scarf kept slipping off its armless dress form, I loosely wrapped our little kielbasa like the sausage he is and snapped away. Now if only I could teach him how to sew....

Baxter-less errands today, and a visit from the heater guy. A combination sure to rile up our little protector, who thinks he's tough no matter what he's wearing.

tiny helper

With only two more days til I pack up the car, little kielbasa kept me company this morning while I photographed some of the purses and scarves I've made for this weekend's show. A curious event for this little wiener, who has yet to realize he won't be tagging along.

For the most part, Baxter has grown accustomed to my crafty ways, patiently sleeping in his bed while I often sew and press the day away. Today's experience out on the deck was new for the little kielbasa, yet his curiosity initially lay dormant thanks to entertaining scene that is our squirrel filled backyard. Minutes passed as we both functioned in our own microcosmic worlds, with me, trying my best to set up shots with one hand and snap photos with the other, and Baxter, plotting his epic revenge against his backyard thugs.

Relenting, finally, to the obvious fact that today would not be a hunting day, Baxter disengaged himself from his squirrel filled world and trundled into mine, checking out all the goodies that were the focus of his mom's attention, and making tiny paw prints all over the velvety green drop cloth I was using as my background.

I'm here to help, Baxter's eyes proudly proclaimed, with tail wagging ever so gently. I just need to get situated, first, right here in the middle of things.

It's hard for me to imagine our world without a tiny helper in it. Sure projects might go more quickly or smoothly if we didn't get that special kind of help that only a doxie can give, but one year and three hundred sixty three days since our tiny helper first stepped paw into our house, I've come to realize that sometimes the help we need isn't the help we ask for, but what we get.

doxie terminology: lixipliant

lixipliant: (adj.) complying to or
submitting to the relentless licking
action of a dachshund in pursuit of lotion; "lulled into a lixipliant trance, baxter's mom was late for her appointment."

carrot-ku

stuffed in my kong toy,
carrots blast out wondrously
like a cannon ball.

- baxter, 2.9 years old, on the joys
of playing with carrot cannon

trick or treat

dear diary,
well, it's my second halloween with my mom n dad and this year i'm staying home to help hand out treats. i can't wait to see the trick or treaters cuz the trick'll be on them cuz they'll think snoop dogg lives here. yo yo fo shizzle dizzle. anyway, i sorta hope we don't get a lot of visitors cuz i sure would like to have my treats all to myself. if only i could reach the switch to turn off the lights.

peace out,
snoop baxx