Short legs.
Big opinions.

I was adopted to Finland from Estonia when I was about one and a half years old in 2021 September. We were told I had been found on the streets in Russia. Nobody knows how a dog this cute ended up alone. Perhaps I got lost. Perhaps I was stolen. I prefer to keep that part of my story mysterious.

When I arrived, I was already house-trained, understood simple commands, and was extremely motivated by food. I also quickly learned who Mama and Papa were. Ask me, “Where is Mama?” or “Where is Papa?” and I will search with my most adorable expression.

People often think I look like a long-haired dachshund, but my DNA says I am only 3% dachshund, along with 13% Rottweiler and several other surprises. I am small enough to be carried easily, so I have my own seat in the car and even my own bike wagon.

I enjoy road trips, city walks, day trips, and basically any adventure where I am allowed to come along. On walks, I am the official route planner. I decide where we go, when we stop, and whether the proposed direction meets my approval. Pulling me along will usually earn you a long stare and absolutely no cooperation.

I love chasing birds and squirrels, although my people keep a close eye on my hunting instincts. I am also cautious around other dogs after a frightening experience at a dog park, so I prefer carefully selected company. Happy people, especially grandmas and grandpas, are much more my style. I like to show them my belly and accept head pats.

This blog is my record of the places we go, the things we notice, and the ordinary little moments that become good stories. My people may do the writing, but I provide the opinions.