Life with Jasmine, Juliet and Buttercup, Our Rescued Dachshunds

Random notes on our experience with THREE rescued miniature dachshunds

Peanut Buttah!

on November 3, 2009

Blame it on Bob.

Our friend Bob gave Jasmine her first taste of peanut butter when we were visiting he and his wife in Maine. Jasmine, who doesn’t take treats from strangers, lapped it up like Bob was her long lost friend. No hesitation.

Of course, that was our cue to go get a jar of peanut butter and have Hubby be the “Peanut Butter Man.” Or, I should say, the “Peanut Buttah Man” with Hubby’s Boston accent (he says, “What accent?”).

Every evening, I put Jasmine in my lap. And instead of snuggling in to my nice warm lap for some quality time, she perches on the arm rest of the chair and wags her little flirty tail at Hubby. She looks at him hopefully, and I call out, “Peanut Buttah Man!” She wags her tail more and tries to look cute (not difficult). Hubby chuckles, and I pick Jasmine up and put her on his lap. He grabs the jar of peanut butter and digs out a fingertip of creamy goodness on his finger. She laps it up and sniffs for more. A couple of doses later, and the official peanut butter period has ended.

Then and only then will she come back to me and settle on my lap for an evening snooze.

Oh boy, does she have us trained well or what?


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