THE DACHSHUND

THE DACHSHUND

 

My funny features may abound,

Short legs, long body, low to ground,

But I'm about the perfect pal

For man or woman, boy or gal.

I'm gentle, very playful, kind.

I housebreak fast

'Cause I'm refined.

I'm smart but never sly or foxy,

No!  Don't underrate the Dachsie!

By John J. Kelly III
age 11

Via the American Dachshund magazine, October, 1972.  Unrelated Mid-Century photo source unknown.

Read more Dachshund Poetry

A POEM FOR HARRY

 

A Poem For Harry - March 22, 1998 - October 16, 2012

by An Anonymous Dachshundist

 

When I first met you on the third of July
I was amazed that, though little, you stared into my eyes

All through your life, every picture I took
Your eyes were on me with that same special look!

I was never alone with you by my side
Whether happy or busy or just when I cried

You found a best friend in Miss Murphy Brown
And I know that you missed her when no longer around

When we went to grandma’s to mow and to chop
You followed me faithfully til it was time to stop

You made us all laugh with a rug on your head
And when you stole stuff you ran under the bed!

When I went to the hospital and came home to rest
You stayed by my side and snuggled…you were the best!

When we went to Auburn to fix up your spine
You were so brave…not a whimper or whine!

You swam in the tub and flexed out your paw
Of your will to recover, I was amazed and in awe!

With all the hard work we at last had success
You walked and you ran about four years, I guess

But again your back failed and you couldn’t stand up
Just one more challenge for my brave little pup!

We got you a wheelchair made specially for you
With your unstoppable spunk, you mastered this too!

For three more years we traveled together
We went out for our walks no matter the weather

I became your legs when you couldn’t walk
But you were and ALWAYS will be MY HEART!



Thanks so much to a special reader for sending in these beautiful words.  

Late Saturday Night Videos With Joey and Rowdy

"Dog's World"

This is a dog's world
It looks like this
Everything smells kinda good to me

This is a dog's world
I like my life
I can run around and be completely satisfied

This is a dog's world
And my day is so fine
I eat, I drink, I eat, I drink, I poop and then lick my behind

'Cause there's nothing on my mind
There's nothing on my mind
This is a dog's world

'Cause there's nothing on my mind
There's nothing on my mind
This is a dog's world

This is a dog's world
I don't ask for much
Kinda energetic now so I think I'll get into some stuff

This is a dog's world
I like my life
I can run around and be completely satisfied

This is a dog's world
And my day is so fine
I eat, I drink, I eat, I drink, I poop and then lick my behind

'Cause there's nothing on my mind
There's nothing on my mind
This is a dog's world

'Cause there's nothing on my mind
There's nothing on my mind
This is a dog's world

By youtuber Francois Dior who notes:  The goofy idea for this song came when watching my Jack Russell terrier playing in the back yard. Hope you enjoy!


(Hey all, we're still on holiday vacation, but we'll be back real soon, J &R.)

Poe's First Draft of 'The Raven'

Gather 'round Dearest Dachshunds, and snuggle up close and tight next to your human - it's time for the annual telling of Poe's first draft of 'The Raven!'  We post this every year at this time because, well, you can never get too much of a good thing: 

The Dachshund
Once upon a midnight dreary as I plodded weak and weary
To my bed with visions full of Slumberland’s enchanted shore.
I was taking off my socks and suddenly I spied my dachshund
Curled up like a sleeping fox in just the space that I yearned for
“Move yourself off of my bed, please, I am weary and footsore”
Quoth the dachshund, “No. You snore.”

Startled by the stillness marked by such display of cheeky snark
Quickly did I point my finger toward the bedroom’s open door.
“Get thee hence, you little brat, I’ll take no sort of sass like that,
Upon my bed I’ll stretch out flat, my wearied senses to restore.
After all my toil I crave the yielding mattress’s contour.”
Quoth the dachshund, “Try the floor.”

I had scarce the strength to quibble, “Listen here, you know that kibble
That appears as if by clockwork in your dish upon the floor?
It does not grow on the trees, nor does the salve that wards off fleas,
So I would think you’d try to please the person who buys treats galore.
If I do not get my rest, I’ll not be going to the store.”
Quoth the dachshund, “You’re a bore.”

And the dachshund, never stirring, lay just like a kitten purring,
By my lack of will inferring his was now the winning score.
Anyone who owns a dachsie must concede they’re full of moxie,
Both directly and by proxy, your commands they will ignore.
Best admit that any chance of winning you long since foreswore.
You’re the master nevermore.

Photo: 'Halloween Dwyn' by Doug Watt.

Model: 'Dwyn'

Author: Jerry Stemnock for Dachshund Delights

Have a fun and safe Halloween!
So long Dachtober. We love ya.

The Rappy Years

The Rappy Years
(In memory of Holmdachs Viktor's Rapture)

Rappy died today.
How long ago and yet it seems
as near as now.

I find the living room unbearable
and seek the empty solace of the places
where she never came.
There are no memories upstairs
of soul-deep eyes and gaily dancing feet;
of flying ears and that funny backward dance
she did each night
waiting for her food.

In time, the tearing void will be replaced
by quiet emptiness
and I shall see in my mind's eye
only gentle memories of the Rappy years.
I shall not constantly recall the sudden illness
crashing through our night, the glazed, unseeing
eyes, the final breath.
I shall not always see her, semi-conscious
on the front car seat
or feel her still warm body
close against my own.

There will be instead the way she sat
like some large bosomed dowager
upon the station wagon seat, eyes half closed
in ecstasy, loving every minute of the ride,
Rappy, wanting always to be near, leaving
anything behind just to come along.
Rappy, with her stubborn streak, her independent ways,
her merry heart, pleading with her eyes for only one
more morsel, only one more walk, only one more lick
planted on my nose
to prove how much she cared.

There is a Dachshund with eyes not really almond shaped
filed away forever now in some special niche the heart
reserves
for precious things we've known and lost.
She had a constant love affair with life and
treated everyone as though they were her friend
but spent herself reassuring me in countless ways
not to be concerned
because
she love me best.


By Ann Carey for the American Dachshund magazine, August, 1973. 
Unrelated 1950s Belgian image source unknown. 

Read more Dachshund Poetry

TALE OF A DACKEL

TALE OF A DACKEL

"The sausage hound!  The sausage hound!"

     The children shout with glee.

As with my pet I saunter forth

     to view the scenery.

"Where did you get the funny dog?"

     They ask with puzzled air,

"Is he one of that German kind?"

     The curiouser dare.

"This is the Baron v Houghton," I

     explain,

"And though at times he may look ratzi,

     He was born right here, and he's not a Nazi!"

When speaking of the canine species

     My friends go into raptures keen

And boast of prowess in the hunt

     And trophies won in field and stream.

"Oh pardon us, Miss B." they say,

     "Are you of the sporting set?"

Eager, I take the gauntlet up,

     "Ah yes....a Dachshund is my pet."

A blankish stare, a furrow brow

     And then, as though they'd made a find,

They laugh and say "Oh, NOW I know!.....

     The Born-Under-A-Bureau kind!"

"Dog and a half," is sometimes said

     When I point to streamlines classy,

Or indicate his ram-like nose

     And praise his low-slung chassis.

How can I make them feel the times

     He fills my heart with swift delights,

His foolish grin that welcomes me,

     The fun and rompings he invites?

Ah, well, it doesn't really matter -

     By me he'll always be adored,

And comments buzzing 'round his head,

     I note, leave him polite but bored.

by Kathleen Briggs

Bremerton, Washington

for the American Dachshund magazine, March, 1951

Early 1900s postcard, source unknown.

Read more Dachshund Poetry

We Wish You A Merry Christmas!

May All Your Dachshund Dreams Come True.

Wiener Wonderland (to the tune of Winter Wonderland)

Dog tags ring, are you listenin'?

In the lane snow is glistenin'.

It's yellow, not white - I've been there tonight,

Marking up my Wiener Wonderland.

Smell that tree? That's my fragrance.

It's a sign for wand'ring vagrants:

"Avoid where I pee, it's my property!

Marked up as my Wiener Wonderland."

In the meadow Dad will build a snowman,

Following the classical design.

Then I'll lift my leg and let it go, man,

So all the world will know it's mine-mine-mine!

Straight from me to the fencepost,

Flows my natural incense boast:

"Stay off of my turf, this small piece of earth.

I mark it as my Wiener Wonderland."

Be safe and Merry Christmas!

Image source: early 1900's postcard. We post this poem every year (you can never get too much of a good thing!) - we slightly modified a popular dog poem to make it Wiener specific! Original source unknown.

Have a fantastic howliday, and we'll be back soon.

Poe's First Draft of 'The Raven'

Gather 'round Dearest Dachshunds, and snuggle up close and tight next to your human - it's time for the annual telling of Poe's first draft of 'The Raven!'  We post this every year at this time because, well, you can never get too much of a good thing: 

The Dachshund
Once upon a midnight dreary as I plodded weak and weary
To my bed with visions full of Slumberland’s enchanted shore.
I was taking off my socks and suddenly I spied my dachshund
Curled up like a sleeping fox in just the space that I yearned for
“Move yourself off of my bed, please, I am weary and footsore”
Quoth the dachshund, “No. You snore.”

Startled by the stillness marked by such display of cheeky snark
Quickly did I point my finger toward the bedroom’s open door.
“Get thee hence, you little brat, I’ll take no sort of sass like that,
Upon my bed I’ll stretch out flat, my wearied senses to restore.
After all my toil I crave the yielding mattress’s contour.”
Quoth the dachshund, “Try the floor.”

I had scarce the strength to quibble, “Listen here, you know that kibble
That appears as if by clockwork in your dish upon the floor?
It does not grow on the trees, nor does the salve that wards off fleas,
So I would think you’d try to please the person who buys treats galore.
If I do not get my rest, I’ll not be going to the store.”
Quoth the dachshund, “You’re a bore.”

And the dachshund, never stirring, lay just like a kitten purring,
By my lack of will inferring his was now the winning score.
Anyone who owns a dachsie must concede they’re full of moxie,
Both directly and by proxy, your commands they will ignore.
Best admit that any chance of winning you long since foreswore.
You’re the master nevermore.

Photo: 'Halloween Dwyn' by Doug Watt.

Model: 'Dwyn'

Author: Jerry Stemnock for Dachshund Delights

Have a fun and safe Halloween!
So long Dachtober. We love ya.

Homecoming

He sniffs my gloves suspiciously,

For I have been away -

His nose is telling him I saw

Another dog today.

"It's all right, Loki," I explain,

"I patted him it's true.

But I was faithful, in a way,

He was a Dachshund, too!"

by Lee Avery for the American Dachshund magazine, October, 1972.

Unrelated vintage 1950's photo source unknown.

Read more Dachshund Poetry.

The Dachshund

The Dachshund

Part I.

The Dachshund is the Longest Dog

In the whole Canine Catalog.

He is so Long - to show him Here

He must in Serial Parts appear.

This is Part One - Observe his Air

Of Lack-a-daisi-cal Despair.

I fear he finds it does not Pay

To wag a Tail so Far Away,

He is so very Long and Low.

And yet he was not always so.

The Dachshund once was Tall and Fleet

As any Dog you'd wish to meet.

Alas! He met a Fearful Fate.

One Day - but we anticipate

Continued.

The Dachshund

Part II.

And now, Dear Reader, we must go

Back some Six Thousand Years or So

To Eden's Lovely Garden, where

With an Historic Happy Pair

Lived the First Dachshund, Tall and Proud.

The Sign that reads "No Dogs Allowed"

Hung not in Eden's Garden Bright.

And all was Joyous, till One Night

The Faithful Dog awoke in Dread,

To find the Happy Pair had fled.

Madly he searched the Garden round

But not a Trace of them he found,

When Suddenly he saw a Sight

That made him Howl with Grief and Fright.

Continued.

The Dachshund

Part III.

He saw with mingled Grief and Fear,

His Master and his Mistress Dear,

Thrust through the quickly closing Gate.

He sprang to join them but too late!

In vain he tried to leap the Wall;

Only one Hope was left to Crawl

Beneath the Gate.  It happened here,

By just an inch or two, to clear

The ground With Supercanine strength

He Squirmed and Squeezed, until at length,

When half way through, - unhappy luck! -

He could not move - in short, was stuck.

Here we must leave him to pursue

The fortunes of the Other Two.

Continued.

The Dachshund

Part IV.

Unhappy Pair!  Left to their Fate

In a Strange World, Outside the Gate

Without a single Friend; but hark!

What is that dear familiar Bark?

They pause a moment in their Flight

And see their Faithful Doggie's plight.

With willing Hands, and Patience too,

At last they pull him safely through.

But Oh, the Difference!  No more

The Tall and shapely Hound of Yore - 

This Strange, Flat Dog with Crumpled Feet.

But let us draw a veil discreet

Upon that meeting . . .  Now we know

Why the Dachshund is Long and Low.

(THE END.)

The Dachshund from the book "More Animals" by Oliver Herford, 1901.  Images by the author.

Read more Dachshund Poetry

MAN

MAN

by Beth Williams

I never fail to marvel at

The treachery of man;

Nor how this clever diplomat

Achieves his cunning plan.

If he should want the chair you're in -

Without a trace of guile -

He'll ask if you would like a spin

In the countryside awhile?

What joyous words he's just announced!

You race him to the door!

But wait!  That man is now ensconced

In the chair you had before!

for the American Dachshund magazine, February, 1971

Vintage wirehair photo source unknown.

Read more Dachshund Poetry

HER DACHSHUND

HER DACHSHUND

The pampered pup my lady keeps

Upon a silken cushion sleeps.

She feeds him with her dainty hand

Upon the fatness of the land.

She bathes and combs him every day

And pets him in a loving way.

For many reasons, I would like

To be that happy little tyke.

But I should really like to know

What makes her love that Dachshund so.

Is it because the dog loves her?

No more than I, of this I'm sure.

Oh, would my lady care for me

If I like him should strive to be?

He's ugly as the greatest sin,

So looks do not her affection win;

I think he's like a threshold mat;

To me he's lazy and very fat;

His temper bad, he barks and growls

And most unmusically howls.

How can she like him?  It beats the band,

It's something I can't understand.

I think if I should growl and swear

And cultivate rank growth of hair

And put on lots of adipose

And walk about so that it shows

She would not think I was improved

Or find herself to pity moved.

But if she wants, I think that I,

To emulate that dog would try.

My willingness I therefore tell

To my lady in this doggerel.

By Bill Sole for the American Dachshund magazine, October, 1972.

Unrelated mid-Century photo source unknown.

Read more Dachshund Poetry

NATURE'S NOBLEDOG

NATURE'S NOBLEDOG

by Lee Avery for the American Dachshund magazine, January, 1972

"Noble" is the word for Newsy-

A Dachshund gentleman to his toes-

For in a sweetness of the spirit,

Even in dogs, nobility shows!

Deferential to elder brother,

Patient with roguish sister's pranks,

Giving up toys without a protest,

Expecting, and getting, no sort of thanks.

Guarding his house with husky barkings,

Friendly with guests, and circumspect,

That's our Newsy, who daily earns

Love, admiration, and respect!

Unrelated 1940's photo source unknown.

Related:  To A Prospective Dachshund Owner by Lee Avery

Read more Dachshund Poetry

We Wish You A Merry Christmas!

May All Your Dachshund Dreams Come True.

Wiener Wonderland (to the tune of Winter Wonderland)

Dog tags ring, are you listenin'?

In the lane snow is glistenin'.

It's yellow, not white - I've been there tonight,

Marking up my Wiener Wonderland.

Smell that tree? That's my fragrance.

It's a sign for wand'ring vagrants:

"Avoid where I pee, it's my property!

Marked up as my Wiener Wonderland."

In the meadow Dad will build a snowman,

Following the classical design.

Then I'll lift my leg and let it go, man,

So all the world will know it's mine-mine-mine!

Straight from me to the fencepost,

Flows my natural incense boast:

"Stay off of my turf, this small piece of earth.

I mark it as my Wiener Wonderland."

Be safe and Merry Christmas!

Image source: early 1900's postcard. We post this poem every year (you can never get too much of a good thing!) - we slightly modified a popular dog poem to make it Wiener specific! Original source unknown.

If you have a hankering this season to revisit some of those ooey gooey Dachshund Holiday Videos, make sure and check out the recap of our favorites we did last year at this time:  Classic Dachshund Christmas Videos. 

Have a great one, and we'll see you after the howliday.

Poe's First Draft of 'The Raven'

The Dachshund
Once upon a midnight dreary as I plodded weak and weary
To my bed with visions full of Slumberland’s enchanted shore.
I was taking off my socks and suddenly I spied my dachshund
Curled up like a sleeping fox in just the space that I yearned for
“Move yourself off of my bed, please, I am weary and footsore”
Quoth the dachshund, “No. You snore.”

Startled by the stillness marked by such display of cheeky snark
Quickly did I point my finger toward the bedroom’s open door.
“Get thee hence, you little brat, I’ll take no sort of sass like that,
Upon my bed I’ll stretch out flat, my wearied senses to restore.
After all my toil I crave the yielding mattress’s contour.”
Quoth the dachshund, “Try the floor.”

I had scarce the strength to quibble, “Listen here, you know that kibble
That appears as if by clockwork in your dish upon the floor?
It does not grow on the trees, nor does the salve that wards off fleas,
So I would think you’d try to please the person who buys treats galore.
If I do not get my rest, I’ll not be going to the store.”
Quoth the dachshund, “You’re a bore.”

And the dachshund, never stirring, lay just like a kitten purring,
By my lack of will inferring his was now the winning score.
Anyone who owns a dachsie must concede they’re full of moxie,
Both directly and by proxy, your commands they will ignore.
Best admit that any chance of winning you long since foreswore.
You’re the master nevermore.

Photo: 'Halloween Dwyn' by Doug Watt.

Model: 'Dwyn'

Author: Jerry Stemnock for Dachshund Delights

Yes, we post this almost every year at this time, but you can never get too much of a good thing. Have a fun and safe Halloween!
So long Dachtober.

The Dachshund Speaks

The Dachshund Speaks
Illustration and words by Morgan Dennis, 1947

Because I waddle when I walk,
Should this give rise to silly talk
That I'm ungainly?  What's ungainly?
I'm really rather graceful - mainly.
The experts have been known to state
That there's a twinkle in our gait.
One said "They have a clumsy grace,"
Which after all is no disgrace.

My funny features may abound;
Short legs, long body, low-to-ground,
But I'm about the perfect pal
For man or woman, boy or gal.
I'm gentle, very playful, kind,
I housebreak fast 'cause I'm refined.
I'm smart but never sly or foxy -
No, do not underrate the dachsie!

This comes from a 1947 book of sketches and poems written and illustrated by Morgan Dennis (1892 - 1960).
Morgan Dennis was an American illustrator and author known primarily for his paintings of dogs. He was born in Boston, Massachusetts, and grew up on Long Island, New York.
See more of his work at American Art Archives.
 
Read more Dachshund Poetry

The Little Dog's Day

The Little Dog's Day
by Rupert Brooke

All in the town were still asleep,
When the sun came up with a shout and a leap.
In the lonely streets unseen by man,
A little dog danced. And the day began.

All his life he'd been good, as far as he could,
And the poor little beast had done all that he should.
But this morning he swore, by Odin and Thor
And the Canine Valhalla he'd stand it no more!

So his prayer he got granted to do just what he wanted,
Prevented by none, for the space of one day.
"Jam incipiebo, sedere facebo,"
In dog-Latin he quoth, "Euge! sophos! hurray!"

He fought with the he-dogs, and winked at the she-dogs,
A thing that had never been heard of before.
"For the stigma of gluttony, I care not a button!" he
Cried, and ate all he could swallow and more.

He took sinewy lumps from the shins of old frumps,
And mangled the errand-boys when he could get 'em.
He shammed furious rabies, and bit all the babies,
And followed the cats up the trees, and then ate 'em!"

They thought 'twas the devil was holding a revel,
And sent for the parson to drive him away;
For the town never knew such a hullabaloo
As that little dog raised till the end of that day.

When the blood-red sun had gone burning down,
And the lights were lit in the little town,
Outside, in the gloom of the twilight grey,
The little dog died when he'd had his day.



Thanks so much to our pal 'Clancy' for sending in this poem.
Vintage Swiss Dachshund postcard era unknown.

Author Rupert Brooke 1887-1915

"The handsomest young man in England" according to William Butler Yeats.

Related:  Dachshund Poetry

We Wish You A Merry Christmas

May All Your Dachshund Dreams Come True.

Wiener Wonderland (to the tune of Winter Wonderland)

Dog tags ring, are you listenin'?

In the lane snow is glistenin'.

It's yellow, not white - I've been there tonight,

marking up my Wiener Wonderland.

Smell that tree? That's my fragrance.

It's a sign for wand'ring vagrants:

"Avoid where I pee, it's my property!

Marked up as my Wiener Wonderland."

In the meadow Dad will build a snowman,

following the classical design.

Then I'll lift my leg and let it go, man,

so all the world will know it's mine-mine-mine!

Straight from me to the fencepost,

flows my natural incense boast:

"Stay off of my turf, this small piece of earth.

I mark it as my Wiener Wonderland."

Be safe and Merry Christmas!

Image source: early 1900's postcard. Poem first posted here last year (you can never get too much of a good thing) - we slightly modified a popular dog poem to a wiener dog poem - it's making the rounds on mailing lists in its new wiener dog form this year! Original source unknown.

A Dachshund Christmas Poem

We can't think of a better way to usher in the holidays than with some Christmas Dachshund poetry.  Via youtuber Yetanotherstringband:  Featuring pictures of dachshund puppies, this original lighthearted poem set to music tells the story of the havoc one wiener dog puppy wreaks on a family's home the day after Christmas.

You may remember that 'Yetanotherstringband' created the lovable Wiener Dog Song.

A MISUNDERSTANDING: (I was talking to my dog!)

A MISUNDERSTANDING:  (I was talking to my dog!)
by Dawn Gaines for the American Dachshund, September, 1969

I talk to my dog a lot, and sometimes use gestures, too.
Although it seems ridiculous, this is what I do:
Before mealtime I say to him something very silly,
Pat his tummy and ask, "Getting hungry in the belly?"

There was twenty feet between us and the court next to ours.
In this sunny little space my neighbor planted flowers.
Our kitchen window was so high I couldn't see a bloom,
But from the open window the aroma filled the room.

How could I know my neighbor was there among the flowers?
(She had a way of growing things and fussed with them for hours.
Working with them there on this hundred-ten degree day,
It was much too hot to work, but she pulled weeds anyway.)

High noon and Bully Boy went into the kitchen with me.
For two hot days he hadn't eaten - now he must be hungry.
Made myself a sandwich of peanut butter and jelly,
Then to my dog I said "Are you hungry in the belly?"

Up popped my startled neighbor from the court next door to ours.
She thought that she was hearing things while weeding out her flowers.
"I shouldn't be working so hard," she told me with a frown.
"This heat is getting me today.  I think I'll go lie down."

Her expression surprised me so, I didn't know what to say.
Besides I felt so stupid, talking to my dog that way!
She hurried off so quickly, I had no time to explain
That I was talking to my dog, and she was really sane!

Have a great Friday.