There was a woman*. She made small, perfectly formed, rather fiddly, stuffed dachshunds. Many of them. Many many of them. So many she couldn't bear to make another one in the end. But every last one was sent off around the world, to a new life, collecting rather an impressive stash of airmiles between them.
One such dachshund hauled itself in a small boat across a small sea to a green, lush, occassionally troubled land called Norn Irn. It nuzzled into the cosy abode of two colourful artists, who submitted a photo of their little sausage-dog shaped pride and joy to a spectacular place over the Norn Irn border called The Ark, in the fair city of Dublin. A wonderful sounding place calling itself a cultural centre for children. The dachshund was extremely pleased with itself...
There it found itself the subject of a programme called Crafted Creatures. It nestled happily among many other strange and beautiful beasts, some real, some not. And there they hung, in circular form, dangling, balancing, cuddling, from streams of ribbons, woven together for small and big people to behold with wonder and amusement.
*That woman being me...
