We interrupt this story for....another story

Tonight, I had to go on another forced march (Mom calls them "walks").
After what seemed like hours of marching, we finally turned back towards home. As I marched along, I smelled something delicious. I stopped to sniff, but Mom kept on walking. I turned my head to take another whiff, and suddenly, I felt something slimy on my back paw. A nasty, sticky, slimy something.
Well, I stopped dead in my tracks and held my paw up in the air. Mom finally sensed my distress and stopped too. My sisters Maggie and Harley were no help; they just stood there, laughing at me.
Mom stared at me, then she tugged on my paw. She got some of the nasty stuff off, then told me to keep on marching.
Miles later, when we finally arrived at home, I didn't get my usual drink of water, treat and chewy bone. Instead, she sent me straight out to the back porch. Once I stepped out the back door, she trapped me with a head lock and put smelly, gunky stuff on my paw.
Nasty! Almost as nasty as the sticky stuff.
Then, while still in a head lock, she tugged at my paw. I glared at her, but she kept on tugging at my paw.
Finally, she let me go and I took off running. Free at last! And the nasty, sticky, slimy something was gone! And so was the smelly, gunky stuff!
Mom wanted me to stop and pose for photos, but I told her where to stick it. She is on my hit list tonight. She's no longer Mama #1; tonight, she is Mama #5012.
No more forced marches for me! I learned my lesson; there are nasty sticky things out there!

(NOTE from Mama #5012: Mabel stepped in chewing gum. I removed it with peanut butter. Yes, Mabel will go on another walk tomorrow. I'll bet she avoids stepping in chewing gum from now on).

Let me tell you about myself

I am Mabel Ann. I am about to be famous for writing this blog and for my Facebook page. Be glad that you got to know me before the fame went to my head.
Let me tell you a little bit about myself.
I didn't always look this magnificent. I really did start out as a puppy. I was born in some little town in south Texas. There are several legends associated with my birth. My Mom #1 says they're not really legends, just that my "breeder" (John Adam Puppy) didn't know how the tell the truth. Mama #2 says it's because John P. had so many puppies he just couldn't remember who was who (I think they are legends; who could forget me?). So, who knows?  I may have been the firstborn (that was John P.'s first story) and was born on his brand new comforter. Then, as a newborn, crawled over and laid across his arm (Miraculous!). Or I may have been born not breathing and had to be helped a little bit (I think he lied on this one. I know I was born absolutely perfect!). Or I was the last one born and was a runt (we all KNOW that story is a LIE). Anyway, I was born 7 seconds before my twin sister, Harley, or maybe Harley was born 7 seconds before me? (John P.'s stories....) Hmm, Harley was probably born first, because I'm pretty sure I was right behind her, pushing her out into the world.

You see, I have to push Harley a lot. She just doesn't do much on her own (more later).
I made all the plans to get us adopted together. That John P. guy thought he could separate us (Seperate twins? No way!). He took pictures of me and put them on a website where Mama #1 saw me and fell in love. When she saw my pictures, she knew I was her Mabel Ann. She called and talked to John P. That was almost a disaster! John P. had some issues. Some really BIG issues, like major OCD---that's obsessive compulsive disorder. I mean he talked and talked and talked and talked and talked. The more he talked, the less Mom #1 talked to him. I was scared he was going to talk her out of adopting me. He told her so many rules and regulations about what she had to do with me; feed her this, don't let anyone else touch her for X months, Dachshunds are very special (she already knew!) and on and on. But Mom hung in there because she really, really wanted me.

So, I was all set to be adopted by my Moms. I just had to wait until John P. said I was old enough to rule my own house. I was so excited! But, I knew Harley had to come with me somehow.
John P., the crazy breeder, named me Miss Foxy. Yuk! What kind of name is that? I'm not a Fox, I'm a Dachshund! And he didn't name Harley at all! I thought that was really rude, naming me Miss Foxy and not naming my twin sister anything! So, we both answered to Miss Foxy. We were always together, especially when John P. took pictures of me to send to my new Moms. (I found out there'd be TWO of them--and no more John P.). Two Moms, two puppies. Perfect. I started to drag Harley into every picture he took to send them. Whenever I could, I put my paw on her.

 My twin, Harley, was going to go with me to my new home. (No one else knew this yet, not even Harley, not even my new Moms). You see, they had to fall in love with Harley and not know it. So in every picture, it was me and Harley.
Oh, gotta go. Forced March time. More later.

My sister, Mags

This is Maggie, my older sister. I really love her, except when she thinks she's in charge.

Playing with my cat sister, Sam

Did I mention that we live with a couple of cats? Here is our cat sister, Sam. She loves us. Here she is playing chase.

With my twin, Harley

Here I am with my twin sister, Harley. We usually get along really well. But sometimes, we argue. I guess all sisters argue, don't they?
Anyway, I don't really need to post any pictures of Harley, because, if you've seen a picture of me, you've seen what Harley looks like. I mean, we're identical. Well, maybe not totally identical; she is a little smaller than I am. I guess that's as it should be. After all, I am the Lead Sister.

Here I am!

I am finally here! Here is the blog you've been waiting for: Mabel Ann the Diva Dachshund! Yes, it's me.
Expect greatness.