My reward at the tender age of eight for exemplary behaviour when my tonsils were unceremoniously sacrificed at the Royal Infirmary was Dennis the Dachshund Dog ( I think Dennis, name became real because Dennis rhymed with the “Beano”s Menace and Dennis the Doxie was a memorable tag line ) waiting for me in the back room of the “Quarn Tavern” my grandparents west end Derby pub.
Despite cuddles and pampering this adorable little Dachshund pup was strong willed and no pushover. In modern parlance Dennis had “sense of self” and was not going to be a push over Dachshund as a pet.
Choosing his own mates and life path, his loyalty was definitely self first, except for granny’s handbag which when placed next to her on the floor he fiercely protected. Dennis swiftly became “Keeper of the Handbag” and Grannies mini"champion" primed to do battle for his charge.
Quite a bit larger and with a deeper growl Dennis could have had a great career as a security dog and who knows in another life he may even have joined the police force, but alas too alternative to be trusted as a “sniffer dog,”
Dennis my Dachshund as a pet just punched way above his weight !