Whenever Dachshund Daddy goes on a bike ride, he always meets a lot of fur friends. Here's Melchiorre, a resident of the sleepy border town of Cremenaga, Italy. Despite his cuddle bunny looks, he actually growled at DD.
Here's Aristide, Melchiorre's neighbor, who knows Dante's Divine Comedy by heart.
Aristide has a fur-sister by the name of Flippa, who's writing a novel about James Joyce.
For some reason, the dogs on their "Beware of the Dogs" sign don't look like them at all.
Signage in this area of the Swiss-Italian border is generally odd. The town of Arvigo, pronounced RV-Go (although the vomit road into town is way too narrow for RVs), is home to this "No Littering" sign that threatens violators with a 200,000 Lire fine. That's about $135 with today's exchange rate.
A blast from the past! Italy stopped using Lire in 2002, but apparently the township of Viconago-Cadegliano doesn't have enough Euros to update their signage. Maybe they should start charging for the view, which is truly spectacular.
In the photo above you can see the location of last week's International Pee Spot by the Strait of Lavena. The pretty hill called Monte Sassalto is where we usually go for our walkies. We either go around it, three miles along the water, or over to the top, which requires a 1000+ foot climb. No wonder I'm such a fit little sausage!
You may recall that I work part-time as a Swiss border patrol agent. My task is to analyze all pee spots located along the Swiss-Italian border. Here I am in Torrazza, Switzerland investigating a 1974 border marker on the Swiss side of the Strait of Lavena.
You can see the town of Lavena, Italy just across the water. The Strait of Lavena is less than fifty feet wide at its narrowest, but no bridge was ever built due to the Swiss fear of a mass influx of Italian tourists. The one and only bridge to Italy is two miles away and always backed up with traffic.
And here I am, leaving pee-mail by the border marker. As you can see, national security is my number one concern, and I'm really serious about what I do. You cannot protect your border if you don't pee on it first.
I sure hope that Rand Beers, the acting Secretary of Homeland Security in the United States, is up to speed with the latest pee-based border patrol techniques that I apply in my professional life.
Here in Switzerland, with no Thanksgiving holiday, the Christmas and holiday decorations are already up along Via Stazione. That's a little disconcerting! Still, this latest design of mine shows that I'm serious about my Christmas card series. Seriously. Please take a look at the color version!
Yugi! Happy birthday... or... buon compleanno, as we say in Southern Switzerland. Tanti Auguri! You can see I'm giving you a kiss in the photo above. I don't think I'll give you these shoes; they aren't good for your back, but you would be a beautiful cross-dressing guy.
Some of my friends might not know how much you survived this summer. We're so glad that having your spleen removed made you better. You're a trooper dog, Yugi.
Here I am catching a Frisbee in your honor.
There are kind of a lot of photos of me in this card. Here's a photo of you!
Lots of friends have seen Dachshund Daddy's "Be Like Yugi" video, but I'd like to share it again in honor of your birthday.
The fall is a great time to hike: gorgeous colors, stable weather, no crowds. Sure, days have gotten short, but with an early start we still have enough time to get things done. Today, rather than describing a new adventure, I would like to answer the questions from yesterday's post.
My special friend Christa, taking dictation from Bruno, asked us how many miles we walked to ascend to 8000 feet on our Mannlibode loop hike from last Sunday.
The uphill stretch from the valley floor (4300 ft) to the top (8000 ft) was about three miles, and the whole hike was approximately nine miles. (Mom felt it. I didn't.)
My godson Bouncing Bertie also asked me a good question on behalf of his mom Gail, who would like to know if dachshunds suffer altitude sickness.
I don't know about dachshunds in general, but this particular bold and savvy sausage (me!) doesn't seem to feel the elevation at all. (Mom does.)