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I have a male dachshund who in a prior life (if such a thing exists) must have been the queenliest most flamboyant short gay man alive. It’s almost as if his body language screams look at me, but don’t touch! He is a handsome studly little fella who turns heads when he struts like a peacock on our daily walks.

No amount of affection will turn his head, but adoration wins out every time. And he somehow knows the difference.  He disdains being petted or held unless on his terms. It’s almost as if he has a Siamese cat inhabiting his small frame, and has grown comfortable, indeed- he embraces his own aloofness.

Oh and he’s grown accustomed to his twice daily walks (my partner started that) and now he whines incessantly until he gets his outing. He doesn’t care about the walk per-say its about getting outside where others can see and admire him. I’m convinced of it.

My partner tolerates his existence. Barely.

Recently- after the morning walk, she announced that dachshunds were a hard limit and if I wanted another one we’d have to live separately.

I suppose it’s a good thing that I’ve had my quota of wee weenier dogs, and have come to relish the idea of one day in the near future of  NOT having to walk in the rain, sleet, snow twice a day into perpetuity.

BUT! Hard limit?

Move out so that I can have a dog. Ouch!

I can’t decide if this is a retraining opportunity (for her) or a roll over and accept the situation- situation.

Whatever happened to negotiation?