Ever since we got our mini-dachshund Woofie, I’ve wanted him in our wedding. Mr. Kiwi, while usually enabling of my more “abstract” ideas immediately ix-nayed the idea. But ever since Woofie (Woofman) injured his knee, I’m even more hesitant to leave him with anyone. I want him in our wedding, and I want him spending the honeymoon night in our room with us. Well, not in the room, but in our suite. I mean, it’s not like we’re going to be doing anything that could mentally harm a dog.
To solve our “the dog isn’t formal enough for a wedding” problem, my mom got Woofie a tux. With tails. No joke. We already have a ring bearer, but perhaps he could accompany the mothers down the aisle? I know he’d have to sit with my dad, since other than Mr. Kiwi and I, he’s the only person who knows how to handle the little guy. Anyway, here is a picture of Woofman, not in the tux- it hasn’t arrived yet.
That off white thing behind him was one of his “bones” (that’s what we call all his stuffed animals and rawhide things), who we called Mr. Bear. Woofie worked that poor guy over- after a week the foot was chewed off.
(The marks on the rugs are ALL Woofie related, and steamed out following his potty-training)

This is Woofie doing his “sea serpent” impression.

Lastly, this is him with a guilty look on his face. Yes, he did just do something wrong.

And, here’s the little tux that he’ll be wearing.

That dog is going to kill me in my sleep one of these days, I just know it.
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