Hello there. My name is Frank. Which makes sense because I’m a weiner dog.
Officially I’m a dachshund. Did you know that pictures of my ancestors are on murals in ancient Egyptian temples? And that fossils of my great, great, great, great grandparents were found in homes in ancient Rome? How’s that for great?
We didn’t get by on looks alone. We hunted badgers, martens and white weasels. These critters can get pretty nasty. But even though we’re short, we’re mighty.
But enough of that. They say you are what you eat. And I could eat franks all day long.
I could also eat liverwurst, bratwurst, weisswurst, knockwurst, and bockwurst. Did you know that Germany boasts of having over 1500 different types of sausages or wursts? Ach du lieber! I could happily live out my days at a German butcher shop.
But, sadly, I only get wurst as an extra special treat. Like when I’m in dog obedience class and do my lessons really well. Or when I don’t run after a squirrel and come back to my human when I’m called. Or as a bribe. Like when I have my human’s TV remote and he has to “buy” it back.
I often hear humans complain about having the worst kind of day. But I really don’t understand it. To me, a wurst day is definitely a better day.