I think the Christmas tree has messed with Foxie Doxie’s head.
It’s the only change in our house I can think of that might have driven my little dachshund to lose his mind more than usual. On the best of days, he’s the type of kid who should wear a helmet. But lately? Lately, he needs to be in a Hannibal Lecter-esque full-body restraint, complete with the the face mask.
See, Foxie is marking more than normal. Like, turn-my-back-for-3-seconds-and-he’s-peeing-on-the-fridge kind of marking.
I realize this isn’t news. But it has me considering psychoanalysis for my dog.
The other morning, Foxie fell down the steep stairs that lead to our bedroom. These are the same stairs that are so narrow that they necessitated we cut our box spring in half in order to get it to our bedroom. Those scary stairs.
Foxie missed a step and bounced down the bottom half of the stairs, much like Wile E. Coyote. It happened in slow motion, complete with me being all, “Noooooooo” and trying to somehow catch the dachshund, despite the fact that my athletic skills are amoebic at best.
So, Foxie fell down the stairs and ended up under a chair, halfway across the dining room. Time stood still as we looked at each other, both kind of like, “What the hell?” Then, I went into Mommy Mode, cooing over him, patting him down for any exposed bones or gushing wounds.
I sized him up. He sized himself up. We both decided he was freaked out but fine. We both let out a sigh of relief, and Foxie started to melt into a little mommy love as I attempted to smother away any bruising.
Except. Then, he realized that the other 3 dogs had witnessed his stunt-man-worthy fall. They had seen him freak out and how he let his mommy fawn all over him. He needed to regain his man card.
It was at this point that Foxie puffed up like a middle manager. He literally grew in stature as he made purposeful eye contact with each of the other dogs. Then, he did what any self-respecting dude would do: He walked over to a wall, lifted his leg, and peed.
Again, just like a middle manager. Mark your territory, boys!
I went ballistic. But Foxie was not concerned. Or at least he was playing it cool in front of the other kids.
This is what I’m dealing with. Doggie shrink recommendations are most welcome.