I think Swede might be a human trapped in the body of a foot long dachshund.
I came to this conclusion a couple days ago when I saw him eyeing an item on the floor, about to decide to chew on it:
"Swede, don't even think about it!" I say
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, pauses for a moment and keeps walking toward it.
"Swwwweeeddddeee." (low drawn out voice.)
He stops, flips around and barks at me.
"Excuse me?"
Another bark.
"Swede!"
Another bark and a hyper crazed dash toward said item, followed by a home run slide under the bed (the only place I can't get to him.)
The other day he watched TV with me for over an hour, just staring at the TV. People, I was watching re runs of Laguna Beach (yes, I was that bored.) I think he might have a crush on Kristin.
When we are in the car, he prefers to be held up on his honches, so he can see the cars, like he should be wearing a seat belt. When THAT got annoying, real fast:
How indecent that I make the dog sit on the floor or in the back seat? So I sit, so proud of myself once I finally get him to SIT and STAY only to find him kamikaze flying across the car at any moment, displaying his best leap to land in the place he thinks is where he should be.
Or how I lose track of time/Swede, only to remember "where is he?" (hoping he's not getting into to something) while looking around, to find him sitting in the middle of the room, staring at me.
Or the time he almost clawed my face in half because he was so eager to get in between the hug Aaron was giving me. It ain't a hug if Swede isn't in the middle of it. Or when he jumps up on the couch and very sneakily pushes me off so he's next to Aaron, with me on the floor.
Or when he jumps up on my lap or leg and just stares at me intently, waging his tail like he's trying to speak to me. And gives a little bark and a shake of the head, like he is really, truly trying to talk. I want to burst out "WHAT IS IT LASSIE??"
And then there is the low grumbling (growl) when I pick him up to put him in his kennel for the night. I don't even have to say anything. I try and trick him, but he always knows, and he always growls at me as if to say "why don't you just leave me where I am futile human!"
Or when he finds a stray bone (which I firmly tell him to leave alone) and decides it's his mission in life to find ways to deceive me and get to the bone.
"Oh look human, I'm asleep" SYKE as he dashes for the bone the minute I move out of sight.
"Oh, maybe I"ll just wander over here to this end of the driveway toward this leaf" SYKE as he whips left with no warning and dashes toward the bone, and gets it in his mouth as I'm yelling SWEDE DROP IT, so he swallows it. I just. I can't. I wanted to kill him. And then an hour later he barfs THREE TIMES on the rug and on me--upchucking said bone in the process. And looks at me like "What?"
Or when he chews up the strap to my favorite swim suit, or runs around SO happy after he makes a doo-doo like he is just filled with so much inexplicable joy to watch me pick up his hot terd (and he does watch, like TAKE THAT), or how he gets his face as.close.as.possible. to whatever I'm eating and just stares at me, or when he comes over all sweet to snuggle and then farts so rank and won't even look at me, or how he manages to sneak into the bathroom the one time I leave the door open and devour everything in the trashcan.
And then there is the humping of fluffy objects. I think Swede is also, a teenage boy. Sigh.
But then there's the sweet Swede. The cute Swede. The little hot dog that always wants to snuggle, loves to sleep with his little chicken legs sticking straight out or on his back with his legs spread eagle, is always beyond excited when we come home, who's whole body wiggles when he wags his tail, the good boy that hasn't had an accident in the house since we moved, and we also leave out of his kennel (except at night) and does just fine, the dog that sits when I say sit and stays when I say stay, listens at the park when I take him off his leash, plays fetch, and runs around like a clown on acid whenever he feels the urge.
Oh Swede. I love you. But I also hate you.
