Cousin Frankie

Meet Cousin Frankie. In April, he became newest member of our brood.

I know what you are thinking. There haven't been a lot of Couper's Poop posts lately, so they need a ratings booster. Kind of like Cousin Oliver on the Brady Bunch or Roy on the Simpsons.

You, of course, are exactly right. But there is a little more to the story.

Frankie is Couper and Godiva's cousin. He is the original dachshund in the family. Born a few months earlier than Couper and brought into the family probably a year and a half earlier, he is the prototype of what I considered a dachshund to be before I met Couper.

Frankie is the mellowest dog on the planet. He lives for the following: Food. Belly Rubs. Naps. Probably in that order. No more. No less. So, when we got Couper, I thought, "great a lap dog". Well, that couldn't be further from the truth, even though Couper does enjoy all three of Frankie's essentials.

Anyhow, Frankie is the product of a recent divorce. When all was said and done, there was no place for Frankie to stay. Somehow someone thought maybe we would take him in. Not sure how that came up. Maybe it was the Dachshund Coo Coo Clock (and the 950 other dachshund things we own, and, oh yeah, our two dachshunds). We were happy to help out.

There are many things I have done that I don't care to ever do again. Drop an anvil on my foot. Eat at Arby's. Watch the Golden Girls. New atop that list is taking a sixteen year-old girl's dog. Frankie was delivered to us by the girl who had grown up with him. She didn't want to give him up, but she didn't really have a better choice. She knew he was going to be at a home that would take good care of him. And as her boyfriend commented as he walked in our house for the first time and passed row after row of dachshund figurines and books, "I think he is in the right place." But, in a year, after she has graduated high school and gets a place of her own, if she wants Frankie back, she can have him. That is our pact, Frankie is with us or with her. And if he goes, we will miss him, but I will just have to think back to the day she delivered him and the poise and dignity in which she handled it (a thousand times better than I would have at her age) to know that it is going to be OK.

In (at least) the meantime, we have a third puppy! 

As you might tell from the picture, Frankie's sedentary lifestyle has led to him becoming more than a bit heavy. Unlike Couper and Godiva, who are classified as miniatures, but really are tweeners, Frankie is a full sized dachshund. But at the vet visit, he weighed in at a hefty 25 pounds, about 8 pounds heavier than he should be and 5 heavier than what the vet gave us as a high bar. So job one is to take some weight off. The first step was to ween him off his old food, which he had been getting in a big bowl for the day, and on to the two meal a-day plan with the snooty dog food (with Greek Yogurt) that Couper and Godiva get. He couldn't be more excited about the food. I think he is a little less thrilled with the portions and the schedule. But, wow, when we start making dinner, it is fun to see the mellowest dog on the planet become the most excited dog on the planet. And when it is time to give him the bowl, he jumps at it like Jordan in his prime going to the hoop.

He has also learned that potty time is yummy time. It is tough keeping track of three dogs when they go outside to go potty. Especially since they like to disperse in different directions with different missions. However, we always know when Frankie does something because he will come running at us, tail wagging at 3000 rpm, looking for his treat. And if it doesn't come right away, mostly waiting for Godiva to do her business, he will tell us about it. The yummy jump is almost as animated as the dinner bowl jump. (And, yes, we have taught him to sit, but just barely). He has also quickly picked up on the concept of Sunday Lunch.

But the weight loss has been a success. He may wish he was still getting to graze a bowl all day, but he really looks better and unofficially is down four pounds. When it stops being insanely hot, we will try adding exercise again (other than food anticipation jumping jacks).

So, Frankie is fitting right in. He sometimes will hunt lizards with Godiva (she is fanatical, he gives it 20 seconds at most, then proceeds to lie down). He works with Couper to get his new mommy up at 5AM to get breakfast. He tries to horn in on Godiva's special Belly Rub (though it is her time, so he at best gets a sneaky other hand chest rub). All in all, he seems pretty happy here in the house of spoiled dachshunds. 

Most importantly though, we are one step closer to Couper's Mommy's girlhood dream of having four dachshunds. I know that in earlier posts it may say that her dream was to have three dachshunds. Those were all misprints. It was supposed to say four. I blame the editors, the publisher, and the printer. 

Our new family:

Coo Coo For Dachshunds

We have a dachshund coo coo clock. I am going to let that sentence sink in for a minute while you take a look at our dachshund coo coo clock.

If you look carefully, you can see the dachshund coming out of the door as the clock is about to strike midnight. Every hour on the hour (or close, the dachshund coo coo clock is a bit fast), the dachshund emerges from the door and barks at us. Roof roof roof. Roof roof roof. Roof roof roof.

A friend of Couper's Mommy has a dachshund and got this dachshund coo coo clock. The only problem was that her dachshund went nuts every time the clock struck twelve and the coo coo dachshund opened the door and started roofing. Knowing that we are collectors of all things dachshund (how did we miss this item???) she gave us the dachshund coo coo clock to save her sanity.

The only problem is that we have two dachshunds. And they both like to bark at the slightest stimuli. Car honks? Bark. Car doors shut? Bark. Doorbell rings? Bark. Doorbell rings on TV? Bark. Kids playing? Bark. Dog barks (live or on TV)? Bark. This did not seem well thought out.

So, after a week or so of worrying about this, and questions from the previous dachshund coo coo clock owner about how things were working out, we decided to install batteries and hang the dachshund coo coo clock.

We sat patiently in the computer room next to the dachshund coo coo clock with our two dachshunds waiting for the top of the hour. As the time approached we could hear the doors open and the coo coo dachshund emerged. Roof roof roof. Roof roof roof. Roof roof roof. That was the only roofing we heard. Not a peep from our dachshunds. They didn't even turn their heads.

And from then on, the coo coo dachshund roofs at the top of every hour (or earlier, it is a bit fast) and our dogs ignore it. They still bark at cars. They still bark at doorbells. They still bark at kids. They still bark at live dogs. But the coo coo dachshund? Nothing.

The moral of the story? Sometimes you just have to find the right home for your dachshund coo coo clock. We rescued our dachshund coo coo clock in the Spring of 2012.