How we came to have our doxie family.

 Gary Larson produced some wonderful
cartoons depicting dachshunds as the subjects
of famous paintings.  My need for the calendar sold as a collection of these, along with the "must
see" attitude about the "Wiener Dog Races," were 
puzzling to my husband.  He had grown up in a large 
family, and viewed dogs as entertainment for the 
younger kids.  He'd never been a pet owner.  I had finally gotten over losing my 14 year old 
mixed breed, Lucy, and was thining of a dachshund.  My husband purchased Patty, our 

oldest dachshund, as a gift the Christmas just prior 
to our marriage. She was very young to be sold, and I 
was up with her nightly. Later, we found out that her "baby" behavior was actually due to an illness 
that wiped out every member of her litter, including 
her mom. We had to admire the little survivor. At first, my husband was unamused by the lack of potty 
training. Things got pretty tense until the morning  the tiny puppy pulled her huge blanket over to lay next to his jeweler's banch. Patty's devotion is truly exceptional. She never misses a chance to follow us into the yard, kitchen, or onto the sofa for a little ice cream and t.v. 

The Obnoxious Doxie Gets the Treat!

Bitten hard by the ...bug, we decided a second sweet, quiet, gentle dachshund would be just the thing. Not wanting our Patty to be lonely, we purchased a little red male to keep her company. When we first lay eyes on Hershey in the nest, he was rolled onto his back with a full tummy, snoring like a tiny log. He seemed ideal. After we got him home, Hershey became the

barkiest, most neurotic, 
determined little dog in our family. Hershey had to be neutered immediately. Soon, he developed a loose kneecap,and later, a herniated disk. None of his physical maladies kept him from scratching up all of our doors demanding to be let in, waking us at 6 a.m. demanding to be let out, and stock piling food bowls like a Chalmation grandmother collects butter tubs. Because he overcomes his pain, he is a lesson in patience, endurance, and humility. He loves to 
ride in the driver's seat behind my head on his frequent trips to the vet...at least until he realizes where we are going.  Then he becomes Barney Fife in a convenience store hold-up.
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Patty was bred and produced beautiful puppies, one of which we couldn't part with, our third oldest, Cappy.  We bred for colors and temperment and, in Cappy, we got both: dramatic color, dramatic temperment. When we first left her with a sitter to go out of town, Cappy pretended to be lame. When my sister-in-law house sat, Cappy refused to get off of the sofa. She isn't fond of her daugher, CoCo, but her son gets her left-overs, a good daily grooming, and full 
protection from a jealous dad. Chew-Chew is truly a mama's boy.

The Dachshund Family actually works together to defend the fence line from giant 
lab puppies, stray Tom cats, and those sneaky squirrels.  Lizards, butterflies, frogs, mice, birds and meter-readers are fair game. St. Francis of Asissi probably never owned a dachshund.  They simply do not believe creatures outside of their pack are
worthy of God's love. My husband and I, members of the elite pack, have been trained to cooperate. 
We provide food and water and a house. Only dog lovers are invited to our home; all others are met away from the distainful gaze of 6 pair of disapproving eyes. Enormous amounts of money go into food, vet bills, fences and fence repairs and landscape repairs and door repairs, sock replacement, pantyhose replacement and boxes of utterly rejected treats. As long as my husband and I continue to believe that God is love, we can't help but see these little characters as His representatives, inspite of themselves. Their devotion, loyalty, and intelligence represent the qualities we strive for.