Did you know the first official mascot of the Olympic Games was a Dachshund named Waldi in 1972 and that the year’s marathon route was in the shape of a Dachshund?
Hahnemühle Nostalgie Sketchbook
Kuretake Real Clean Color Brush Pen
Kuretake Cambio Tambien Brush Pen
Kuretake Mangaka Flexible pen
Pixabay reference photo from Sabrinakoeln.
January Doodlewash Prompts
Tools:
To find a list of dealers, who carry Hahnemühle products in the U.S. and Canada, go here
Published by Life Imitates Doodles Art, Reviews & Tutorials
Artist Ambassador for Zebra Pens. I'm a self-taught artist who dances about with all sorts of artistic mediums. My main loves are Watercolor, Zentangle and Ballpoint pen. The subjects of my work are many and varied and change at whim. I'm a little bit crazy, but doesn't that come with being an artist? At my Life Imitates Doodles Blog, I post a list of resource links for Tangles, Tutorials and Giveaways two times a week. I also write reviews, hold giveaways and share my art work.
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2 thoughts on “D is for Daschshund”
Aww, so cute. We used to have one named Chiquito. My dad was his person. When my dad was at the end of his life, he asked to see Chiquito so I put him up on my dad’s hospital bed. He almost ran on top of my dad, he was so excited to see my dad. He kept licking and smelling my dad’s face with his tail wagging like crazy. He was too heavy for my dad so when I tried to get off of the bed, he growled, snarled his teeth, and almost buried himself under my dad. A few nights later, when my dad died, he got out of his dog bed, ran over to my dad’s bed, stood on his hind legs as if he knew something was wrong. He even whined and cried, wanting to get on my dad’s bed. I get choked up just remembering. Cute painting, Sandra.
Life Imitates Doodles 
Aww, so cute. We used to have one named Chiquito. My dad was his person. When my dad was at the end of his life, he asked to see Chiquito so I put him up on my dad’s hospital bed. He almost ran on top of my dad, he was so excited to see my dad. He kept licking and smelling my dad’s face with his tail wagging like crazy. He was too heavy for my dad so when I tried to get off of the bed, he growled, snarled his teeth, and almost buried himself under my dad. A few nights later, when my dad died, he got out of his dog bed, ran over to my dad’s bed, stood on his hind legs as if he knew something was wrong. He even whined and cried, wanting to get on my dad’s bed. I get choked up just remembering. Cute painting, Sandra.
Thank you, Marisela! A bittersweet memory, indeed!