Anyone who has ever owned a Weimaraner knows this for the mistake it is. The breed is very family oriented and extremely nosy. When we first welcomed ‘Leisl’ into our home, she would wander around the house, making sure she knew exactly where every member of the family was. As there are five of us, all with varying schedules, this was a real challenge for her and one she took very seriously.
Leisl (named after the eldest daughter in The Sound of Music), like most of her breed, is affectionate to the extreme. We have a magnet that warns: Caution: Weimaraner – may lick you to death. This is more accurate than you might imagine. She is also a ‘musher.’ Meaning that she will mush her face into any part of your anatomy she can reach. For most people, unfortunately, this is their groin (the top of her head is about 3 feet high). It also includes everything below, including the thigh, and unfortunately for me, the back of your knee.
She has a tendency to come up behind you and ‘mush’ into your leg, buckling your knee and, at times, sending you to the floor. She can also accomplish this by leaning, another of her proclivities. Like a cat, she will lean and mush (and not only at feeding time) and at 90 pounds, this presents a problem. She will knock you down.
This, it turns out, is her main objective. For once she has you on the floor, she will do what she does best and lick you to death…what she wanted in the first place.
Another thing she enjoys is pretending to be a lapdog. When she wants to go out, many times she will put her paws on my chair (keep in mind that I am seated at my desk and my chair is on wheels) and lick my face until I give in and get up to let her out (because suddenly no one else in my house is available to let the dog out).
Leisl has been a part of our family now for 3 years and she is now 7 years old. I would not change a thing about her because no one welcomes me home from work after a long day or adores my kids any better than she does.
She takes up half the bed, half the couch and is always underfoot when I’m making dinner. As a hunting dog, she chases squirrels, rabbits, birds, and the neighbor’s cat out of the yard. She barks at 2:00 am when the kids come home from a night out, and is the pizza delivery man’s best friend. She thinks she can get anything she wants when she turns those sad green eyes at you with those floppy ears back.
She’s right. How pathetic is that?