10/22/2026
So... I adopted a Dachshund.
And Iโm starting to suspect I accidentally brought home the ghost of a Victorian theatre kid with abandonment issues and a gym obsession.
She follows me everywhere.
๐ฝ Bathroom? There. Staring into my soul.
๐ณ Kitchen? Practically breathing down my neck like Gordon Ramsay.
๐ช Taking out the trash? She watches from the doorway like Iโm being shipped off to war and sheโs the heartbroken heroine whispering, โCome back to meโฆโ
She doesnโt sit.
She poses โ legs crossed, head tilted, like sheโs in a black-and-white Chanel ad.
โจ Dramatic sighs if I ignore her for five seconds.
๐ฅฃ Once refused to eat dinner because her bowl wasnโt โfacing the right way.โ
And the zoomies?
Lord have mercy.
One fleeting existential crisis and sheโs bolting through the house like sheโs being chased by the IRS.
Sheโs:
Licked every window in the house
Learned how to open the fridge
Once stole a banana, peeled it herself, and left the skin on my pillow like a warning from the Fruit Cartel ๐๐
Iโve bought every so-called โindestructibleโ toy.
She unstuffed them all like she was digging for buried treasure.
Then โ someone mentioned the magical, mythical no-stuffing octopus toy
from : https://gifteclub.com/products/the-octopus-squeaky-dog-toy
I caved.
Sheโs been carrying it around like itโs her emotional support squid ever since.
๐ Tosses it. Wrestles it.
Sometimes just gently rests her chin on it like theyโve survived the trenches together.
Itโs still intact.
Which is more than I can say for:
๐ my shoes
๐บ my remote
๐ง and my remaining sanity.