Crusoe, the Celebrity Dachshund
Adventures of the Wiener Dog Extraordinaire
By Ryan Beauchesne
St. Martin's Press Copyright © 2015 Ryan Beauchesne
All rights reserved.
In the Beginning: Puppyhood
My celebrity career didn't officially begin until I was about a year old, so my puppy years were unspoiled by photo shoots, flashing lights, and paparazzi. This was before Mum and Dad took on the role as my PR and marketing managers, and before virtually every minute of my life became documented for millions to see.
I was born in Montreal, Canada. It was a confusing time. My brothers and sisters had all disappeared, leaving me as the last puppy of the litter.
I was shy and timid, but when my new Mum came to see me, I immediately related to her soft and calm personality, and I went right over to greet her and let her pet me. I guess it was love at first sight, and you know what they say: The last puppy is oftentimes the most appreciative of its owners.
So, Mum and Dad took me to my new home near Mont Tremblant, Quebec.
This is the first photo ever taken of me by Mum and Dad, at my new home on the very first day.
However, it didn't take many photos for Dad to notice that I was going to be a hit with the ladies....
I'm a natural-born wiener winker ; )
He also later discovered after taking his first selfie with me, that I am very photogenic....
... Much more so than he is! So, from that point forward, Dad stopped taking selfies — and started only taking photos of me.
Mum and Dad weren't the only ones present throughout my puppyhood, though. There was also another dog, Laffie, who's been my mother figure and role model to this day.
She's a French Brittany Spaniel, and was already about ten years old when I met her as a pup. Her whole life has been lived as a country dog, and with no restraints. She's the type of dog you just open the door for and she goes off, to come back when she pleases. No fences, no gates, no leashes — nothing.
It wasn't long before I followed the same routine, learning from her training and example. It was from her that I learned everything I know today about hunting, tracking, chasing, and leading expeditions through the untamed wilderness.
From kayaking trips to marches through deep snow, from organized squirrel ambushes to exploring new frontiers, I kept up with her from the beginning despite being less than a quarter of her size.
So that, folks, is how I developed my muscles.
And it was my muscles and impeccable physique that helped catapult my career as a celebrity. I was about to be the hunkiest, handsomest wiener dog to ever step on the Internet scene.
Keep explorin', Crusoe
Steak à la Squirrel & Sweet Potatoes
Being a hunter myself, I also take pride in being able to prepare the food I catch. So today I'm going to prepare steak à la squirrel.
Everyone always blabs about how you have to cook with love. Well, I prefer to cook with lust.
A nice big, juicy squirrel steak (You can catch one yourself or just hire me to do so.)
1 sweet potato (You can probably catch this yourself.)
Kinky coconut oil
Rice (for the unadventurous out there)
Step 1: Lick It
The first step here is to lay your squirrel steak out on the cutting board, and give it a good conquering stare to tell yourself you won't take a bite out of it until you're done preparing the meal.
You're also probably wondering how a steak this big could have come from the squirrel I caught last week, but I assure you, it was a big squirrel.
Step 2: Spank It, Baby
Now we have to tenderize this steak so that it melts in our mouth. Us dogs often forget to chew when it comes time to eating something as scrumptious as this, so it's best to at least serve it somewhat pre-chewed.
Most people would call this action "tenderizing," but we're making this meal with lust, and so it's called "spanking it."
As you might imagine, I am quite proficient at this technique.
Step 3: Bust Out the Oil
That's right — we're about to get kinky with some coconut oil, which is really good for dogs both as a food and an exterior application. It has anti-inflammatory, antibacterial, and antifungal properties, whatever the heck all that means.
Most important, it's tasty and really good for our health, and makes for a lustrously good time.
This is what we're going to use to sear our steak in.
But as a dog with authorized access to snoop in the cupboard, take this opportunity to make a mental note of any stashes of treats or cookies in there. I will exploit this at a later chance when Mum and Dad are unaware.
Step 4: Intermission
I know it's just getting exciting, but this is where I briefly step out of the kitchen for a quick interlude. You see, supposedly the potatoes take longer to cook than the steak, and due to my limited foresight we now have to play "catch-up" on the potatoes so everything will be ready at the same time.
I told Mum that nobody wants to see me cook potatoes (because they're boring), and I asked her if she could do it while I caught a quick nap.
Step 5: Make It Sizzle
Now for the fun part. This is where we add our coconut oil to the pan, let it melt down (which it will do quickly), and then toss in our steak.
Are you paying attention?
It's important to hear the sizzle. Shaking the pan back and forth doesn't really do anything, but it does enhance the sound and make you look more like a chef.
Step 6: Indulge the Senses
And finally, now we get to indulge in our delicious creation. With this meal I recommend a nice Pinot Noir or Cabernet Sauvignon, or the lukewarm water from your drinking bowl — but feel free to pair with whatever best suits your taste.
Take a (brief) moment to admire your creation, sniff the aromas, and let the slobber build up in your mouth. (That part's important!)
And when you're ready, chow down like it's your last meal on Earth.
Step 7: Brag About It to Your Friends
So make sure to brag about your delicious meal to friends. You know, on Instagram, Facebook — whatever your usual go-to sharing site is.
And don't worry; no one will blame you if you only eat the good stuff.
Hope you liked my steak à la squirrel and sweet potatoes meal. It was absolutely delicious. Try it yourself sometime!
Keep sizzlin', Chef Crusoe
Going to the V.E.T.
I developed my mistrust of vets at a very early age. It all started when I sprained my shoulder while performing a daring seven-foot leap across a stream in pursuit of a particularly voluptuous hare.
Okay, okay — that's just what I tell people. The true story is that Mum pushed me off the bed. Well, sort of. I was sleeping on top of the covers next to Mum, who was fast asleep. Dad had stayed up a bit to watch TV (which Mum is never happy about), but when he climbed into bed, Mum rolled over (deep in sleep) and accidentally sent me over the side.
How's that for a "rude awakening"? I was not impressed. Anyway, after Dad checked on me, I went back to sleep in my own bed this time. However, in the morning it became apparent I was limping, and thus, I had to go to the vet.
It was at this point that the vet said, "Ah, I see he's developed a lameness...."
I responded, "Excuse me, you QUACK! I am NOT lame! I am a world-famous Internet celebrity who gets more action than a Hollywood movie set! Look me up!"
That put him in his place, and was the defining moment from which vets would always be considered quacks to me.
Mum insisted I get an X-ray to make sure I was okay. And as I figured, my strong bones and rippling muscles protected me from any damage.
So once I was all cleared, and the vet left the room, I couldn't help but sneak over to his computer to edit my medical record. I replaced the vet's wording of "some lameness seen in the front-right shoulder," to "total awesomeness all over."
Keep quackin', Crusoe
Along Comes My Brother
Here's Oakley as a puppy, the day we picked him up from the breeder.
About a year and a half after my birth, the parents of my Dad added a new furry member to their family — and that little puppy was Oakley.
Oakley came from the same breeder, and even had the same father as me (he got around, evidently).
He looks a lot like me as you may notice! Well, there's one key way to tell us apart. I have a distinctive anchor-shaped birthmark on my nose. In fact, it's become my own trademark.
Here's a quick comparison:
I'm on the left. You can tell because of my anchor nose for one thing, but I also have a sexy white patch on my chest, and a taller, leaner physique. On the other hand, Oakley is short and stout, bowlegged, and has longer ears.
Little did Oakley know that he was joining a celebrity family, destined to eventually ride the coattails of my fame to his own celebrity status.
He would also become the perfect complement to my handsome, chiseled, composed, and chivalrous self — as he is goofy, often confused, clumsy, but all in all, a big cutie.
As we soon learned, Oakley is also quite a mischief maker. Above, he is acting all "innocent" to the fact he was just ripping apart my favorite ducky.
Oakley and I are best buddies, and have many adventures together. Yet, like any younger brother, he can also be bothersome, oftentimes getting all up in my face.
On the next page is Oakley as a puppy being introduced to the lake for the first time!
I think he might have found it a little chilly.
Yet, despite that "warm" introduction to swimming, Oakley learned to love the water! To this day, he enjoys it more than I do, and can swim like an otter.
Oakley isn't with me all the time, though, because he lives with the parents of my Dad, which is a five-hour car ride (forty-five-minute plane ride) from where I live. So we don't actually see each other very often, unfortunately — but when we do, it's always a blast!
Keep swimmin', Crusoe
Moving to the City
When I was about two years old, my celebrity career was well under way. And so my family and I decided to move to the big city to pursue more opportunities (also because Dad got a new job there). It was sad to leave my home in the country and move to the noisy, stinky city, but my home in Quebec — now to be considered my "chalet" — would still be there, and to this day we still return every other weekend for a little getaway back to the wild.
Anyway, I was a bit embarrassed when Mum and Dad came home with a bunch of banana boxes from the grocery store to use as moving boxes. What kind of cheapos am I living with ...?
I dubbed myself "moving coordinator" for the day, to avoid doing any of the actual work myself and just focus on what I'm good at — being bossy!
"Mum, I want you to categorize my toys into 'balls,' 'stuffed animals,' 'chew toys,' 'rope toys,' and 'other' and then pack them into separate boxes accordingly."
(You need to be organized to be the moving coordinator.)
So anyway, of course Mum didn't do it exactly as I wanted, even with my clear directions. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, so I just had to get in there and fix things myself.
In retrospect, it wasn't the best idea for me to get involved, because once I started pulling my toys out I couldn't help but want to play with them. In the end, I just ended up unpacking the boxes.
So once Mum and Dad finally got their act together and packed the boxes, I went around for one last inspection.
And it was only while writing this that I noticed I had dried yogurt on my nose the whole time. Heck, as my PR and marketing managers, Mum and Dad should really have let me know....
I was also looking to ensure Dad packed my trophies and awards delicately.
The commotion of moving lasted a good part of the day, and I was getting tired of following Mum and Dad around to supervise them.
So when all the boxes were loaded onto the truck, I went along for the ride. I had to make sure none of my toys "fell off the back of the truck" along the way, if you know what I mean.
When we finally arrived at our new home, I was very excited! Mum and Dad never took me for a viewing prior to moving in (which is something you should do with your dog, btw), and so that was a somewhat controversial subject within our family at the time.
I smelled something peculiar upon entering the new home. I asked Mum what it was, and she informed me that there used to be a CAT in this house!
So our little "controversial subject" just became a lot bigger. I would address that matter another time, though.
In the meantime, I had a brand-new home to explore. And one of my immediate favorite parts was the sweet balcony!
This will be perfect for midday snoozes in the sun, as well as for babe watching. I'm not sure if the ladies will be able to hear my catcalls (ironically titled, I know) from up here, so I've asked Dad to pick up a couple of standard water-safety whistles for me.
I also quickly learned that dropping my ball from the balcony to make Dad go get it is a very fun game!
So after checking out the home and giving it my approval, it was time to unpack.
I found a great little shelf on a side table that I used as my lookout point for supervising the unpacking — although admittedly, it was a bit uncomfortable and awkward.
And once Dad unpacked all my trophies, I gave them a nice dusting and polishing, since after all, they're the centerpieces of our living room now.
The last thing we had to do was to get the cable and Internet installed so that I could start blogging again. However, I have never been a fan of cable guys.
I told Mum not to worry, and that I had my eye on him....
Keep movin', Crusoe
The Stowaway Attempt
Up until now in my life, I had never gone on a vacation. As far as I was concerned, this was unacceptable for a celebrity of my stature.
So I demanded Mum bring me with her on her upcoming trip to Saint Lucia. She works in the travel industry and often has to travel for "business purposes" (ya right).
Mum insisted she couldn't bring me on this trip, but that as soon as she was back, we would plan a trip to somewhere I could go.
That still wasn't good enough for me.
My main plan was to hide in her suitcase. So the morning she was leaving, and in cooperation with Dad (he's always on my side), while she was busy getting ready, I slipped silently over to her suitcase and hopped in. I immediately began dressing myself in her undergarments so she wouldn't recognize me. A sock on the nose was the final touch. I thought for sure she wouldn't find me now....
To this day, I still don't know how she found me — perhaps just a mother's instinct? But, dang it, the jig was up!
As a last resort I tried sporting the good ol' puppy eyes....
Nope ... didn't work. "Oh well, I guess I'll stay with Dad for a week."
Keep tryin', Crusoe
My First-Ever Vacation!
Finally the day had come for me to go on a real vacation. We were going to Florida, where Mum and Dad have a vacation home — which I never knew about until now!!!
What kind of baloney is that? Oh well, I guess they didn't want to spoil me as a puppy with the luxuries of a celebrity until I learned how to handle it all. (But for the record, I still don't know how to handle it all.)
So anyway, I was quite excited to say the least. I had my dachshund magazine and toys all ready to go a week before our departure date!
When the day finally came, I trotted through the airport as if I were the happiest dog on the planet. And just for fun, I made sure I met the carry-on restrictions.
Yet despite my eager excitement, when it came time to board the plane I couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy as I looked back at Dad for reassurance.
He gave me a nod and wink to signal that "everything's okay."
What I didn't realize, though, was that I had to be zipped up and tucked under the seat in front for the whole flight ...!
"Hold it right there," I said as I placed my paw across the zipper. "Are you seriously going to zip me up in this bag and stuff me under the seat like some animal?!
"Dad, as my father and manager, I demand you fight for the injustice that is being inflicted upon me and get me the first-class seat with on-demand snack service and television I so rightfully deserve!"
Partway through the flight Dad was worried I might have to pee (he didn't want me to go in my bag!) so he picked me up and brought me into the airplane bathroom. He laid my pee pad on the floor and tried to get me to go, but I wouldn't.
So Dad tried peeing a little bit himself on the pee pad, thinking that might spur me into going. Well, it didn't, I just thought he was incredibly weird.
Anyway, he gave up, but he never should have doubted me, for I was born to fly. I was incredibly well behaved the whole flight; I didn't make a peep or have one accident, and from that day forward I've been an excellent traveler.
So after my first flying experience and arriving in the foreign land of Florida, the first thing we did was hit the beach. This was what I'd been waiting for!
And I still remember wading into the surf for the first time in my life!
This beach was called HoneyMoon Beach, and for good reason. While trotting through the soft sand, I came across this sexy beachgoer named Coco (a perfect name for a tropical romance). She wasn't shy around a celebrity, though — we had barely said "hi" before she was all up in my junk!
So, things progressed from there, but heck, what's a little fling? (We still keep in touch, though.)
Our next outing was to be a full day out on the water!
One of the places we went to was Florida's beautiful Rainbow River — one of the Top Ten clearest rivers in the world. (Continues...)
Excerpted from Crusoe, the Celebrity Dachshund by Ryan Beauchesne. Copyright © 2015 Ryan Beauchesne. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
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