When we brought Zuni home, and for a number of days thereafter, she was as quiet as a mouse. We should have realized she was going through an adjustment period, but instead we congratulated ourselves on finding a quiet, small dog.

It was just a matter of time before the Dachshund in her came out. The day it did is the day that, in my mind, Zuni officially adopted our house as her own.

The windows of our tiny garden level condo were at sidewalk level, giving Zuni a front row seat to any person, dog, or outdoor cat that strolled past our corner unit. When Zuni moved in with us, we didn’t have air conditioning, so the windows were often wide open to the outside sounds and smells.

Zuni broke her silence about a week after we adopted her, on a day a golden retriever trotted past our window. Zuni let out one loud bay more reminiscent of a hound dog than a Chihuahua.

Nick and I froze in our spots and just stared at her; even Zuni looked a little surprised.

As the days went by, one bark turned into a couple barks, turned into occasional howls, turned into some crazy bark-a-thons. She barked at dogs, people, the mailman, cars, anything that threatened to come through the window or door, or at least come near it.

I once returned from the gym to find my neighbor peeking in the window to see if I was OK. (Another big “bonus” of those sidewalk-level windows!) Apparently, while I was at the gym, Zuni had been inconsolably barking, something she wasn’t actually prone to do. Zuni barked with a purpose.

My neighbor had peered in the window while I was away, trying to calm Zuni down, but Zuni would have nothing of that. My neighbor was almost certain something must be wrong with me, so had come back to check, only to find I had returned from the gym.

(Thankfully, we never needed Zuni to sound a real alarm, seeing as she had just cried a proverbial wolf to the nice woman across the street.)

We were, however, more than a little glad that Zuni sounded like a bigger dog than she really was. In her way, she was protecting her home. Of course, that was assuming you didn’t actually walk through the door and expect her to leave the warmth of her cozy afghans to chase you out.

When we moved her red loveseat below the window, Zuni was in heaven. She could sit on the back of the couch, one of her favorite places, and lay facing the window, waiting to surprise unsuspecting passersby.

This was also where she sat whenever you left the house, waiting by the window to watch you return. Every day I left for work, I waved goodbye to Zuni through that window and promised to be home soon.

Waiting to ambush unsuspecting passersby!

Next up, Zuni’s first trip to Angell or, “How easy is it to panic a new puppy mamma?” Please, donate to my 2014 Boston Marathon fundraiser for the Animal Rescue League of Boston so you can find out! Every time the money raised goes up $100, I’ll add a new chapter to the Zuni’s Diaries. And, that one is next!