ThreeHappyDachshunds

Perfection knows no bounds. #dachshund #talent #guitar

Mr.5 has grown up, but he’s nothing like his father—or like Qashqai was. He’s about a third smaller than Kiwi, but he’s a compact, stocky little powerhouse, with a solid frame—far less delicate than my other dogs’—and powerful little paws. Though “little” is definitely the key word here. He has a secret nickname: Squeaky. He’s always making little squeaking noises. He won’t sit still—he always needs to run somewhere and see something new. On a leash, he’s such a good boy. Very obedient and attentive. After staying with someone else while I was in hospital, he stopped being afraid to leave my side when I let him off the leash. Now I can barely get him to come back to me. He races around, while Kiwi is almost always calm and even-tempered. And then there’s his favourite shrimp pose: once you’ve caught him and try to put his leash back on, he flops onto his side and gives you a very sly look from under his brows. You know what I mean 👀

I can’t even remember the last time I watched a movie. Every day here is a new episode—you barely have time to pause in awe of the beauty of the moment, of how the city is changing despite the war, of the wonderful people around you, while also taking in the full horror of what’s happening all around.

A drone struck one of just two houses standing in an open field, killing two people. Acquaintances of mine live in the other house. They have a dachshund too. Thankfully, they weren’t hurt. Beside the field is a whole neighbourhood of houses, including my summer house. The two houses in the field are just four streets from mine — less than half a kilometre away. The blast blew open the windows in my house, even though they had been shut. The field is just across the dam from the lake — the same dam where we go for walks with our dogs. There are no military facilities nearby.