Dachshunds in Pop Culture: This is Not Audrey Hepburn

UPDATE:  See how internet rumors get started?  An anonymous Dachshundist sent us this photo of what was claimed to be Audrey Hepburn, and we found the photo on several sites which also suggested that it was Audrey Hepburn.  But a little research prompted by an anonymous commenter, which we should have done before we posted it, showed that, no, it is instead Coiffure, for Harper's Bazaar by photographer Lillian Bassman, who passed away earlier this year.  Source:  Artnet.

Regardless, it's a beautiful photo, and we're still going to sing-a-long with Moon River.



Audrey in Breakfast at Tiffany's



You've heard Moon River covered a thousand times, even by the likes of REM, but, endulge us, Morrissey covered it best.

Mr. Abraham Lincoln and Dachshund

Nice, but we don't think so. 

Photo source unknown.

Ding Ding The Fishing Dachshund!

We can't make this stuff up, seriously. Meet 'Ding Ding' the smooth black and tan Dachshund who hails from Wuchang in central China's Hubei province. Ding Ding is causing quite a stir in his homeland, as he is now known as a bit of a celebrity after taking up fishing! Excerpt from Ananova:

"I often swim in Donghu Lake, and used to leave him on the bank to take care of my clothes and valuables. But he couldn't stop jumping into the water and swimming with me," his human, Mr. Lin, said.
"When he was swimming, he would bite anything floating in the water, like bottles, foam rubber, or dead fish, and bring them back to the bank.
"But several days ago he suddenly started catching live fish from the lake. Within 10 minutes he had brought back three big fish, weighing more than 3kg."

Read more about this special dog at Ananova.

The Longest Dachshund in the World

Meet 'Hurricane Ike,' or 'Ike.' He's a 10-month-old friend of ours from Chicago. He's sleek, muscular, swift, Standard, and Smooth. Oh yeah, and he's loooooong. Now this photo isn't so hot, and doesn't do justice to his longitude, (he's making a turn in this photo and his hind legs are trying to catch up), but we've met thousands and thousands of Dachshunds, and girth for length (he'll probably fill out some more), Ike is the longest dog we've ever seen.

Ike is so long, when he backs up all you hear is beep, beep, beep.

Hurricane Ike must've stretched out THIS Hurricane Ike, and watching him play at a local Dachshund meetup on Sunday, he's 100% true to his name; he's a 20-pound powerhouse whirlwind of goofy longtasticness.

He's a real traffic-stopper.

Giant Dachshunds in History

Early 1900s photo source unknown.

Related: Meet 'Baron,' a giant dachshund from Chicagoland (the longest dachshund in the world?) in a video from last year's MidWest Dachshund Festival.

Related: Giant Dachshund?

Dachshund-Pony Hybrid?

It's Long. It's Short. Can a dachshund mate with a horse? It seems almost anything is possible nowadays, but this is 'Mayflower,' a pure-bred 12-year-old Shetland pony who lives in the UK. It seems that people keep calling the fire department to rescue her, as from 200 yards away, it looks like she's stuck in the mud. Read more about her and see another pic at The Daily Mail. Thanks to our glamorous friends over at Peculiar Beauty for sending in the link!

The World's Oldest Dog, Continued

Meet 'Chanel,' a "wire-hair dachshund," who, at 20-years-old, is stated to be the oldest dog in the world. When last we saw "Chanel" in our post The World's Oldest Dog?, we deduced that her picture was a fraud, and actually that of our flickr friend 'Honey.' We believe this new photo above to be Chanel, we just aren't so sure that she's the oldest dog in the world. That said, we hope WE live to be at least 20! Rock on Chanel. Read all about her and see lots of pics at The Sun.

Uncle Peterfritz's Lively Tails for Little Dachsies, Continued

Enjoy this newest installment of Uncle Peterfritz's Lively Tails for Little Dachsies. It's especially poignant after the recent election.

Words and Drawing by FRANCES MEUSEL for The American Dachshund, June, 1965.

ONCE UPON A TIME (said Uncle Peterfritz) when half the world was water and our ancestors hadn't decided whether to be sea-eels or Dachshunds, the familial tail was quite different from what it is now. It was broad as a beaver's, flat as a salmon's, and as awkward to carry around as a fur-lined surf board with fringes, which is what it mostly resembled.
"Really, we cannot go on like this any longer!" declared one of the Elders, "the country is getting too crowded for it. A year from now there won't be enough room to wag properly. Yes, the time has come for us to evolve into one thing or an otter; either we detail or go float; it's to sea or not to sea; and I say we should put it to vote immediately."
They all agreed to do this, so an election day was set, a polling place designated in a neutral area neither sea nor land, and the electioneering began.
There were barbecues, drag-races and free biscuits, sponsored by the Reds who were in favor of staying on land; there were beach-parties, regattas and free fish-fries sponsored by the Blacks who favored the sea; there were orations by everybody. It was very exciting.
But those who enjoyed it most were the little whelps who were too young to vote. All the old dogs were so busy politicking they let the pups run loose, so they attended every rally, gorged on free fish and biscuits, and altogether had a glorious time of it.
One day, however, when all the little whelps were sitting around the polling place resting up from the fun, they started to argue among themselves.
"The Blacks are the Good Guys," remarked one, "my Papa says so, he's a Black."
"You're poodled!" scoffed another, "it's the Reds are the Good Guys. My Mama's a Red and she ought to know."
"My Papa said your Mama is a dupe!" declared his neighbor. "He says she'd believe anything. He says just because some people can't tell tails from flails is no reason to deprive -"
"All blacks are back-biters, so there!" snarled the second whelp, and he brought his tail down in a loud slap for emphasis.
Remember I told you the polling place had been set in an area which was neither land nor sea? Well, this sort of terrain is called a swamp, and when anybody makes a slap on a swamp it's likely to send the landscape flying, which is what the second whelp's tail did.
"Who threw that mud in my eye?" yelped a whelp on the edge of the crowd. "I'll show you!" and backing up to a puddle of red gumbo he brought his tail down in a sharp THWACK!
That did it! Withing minutes there wasn't a whelp that hadn't joined the war; tails were slapping down faster than you could count, red mud and black mud filled the air, and by the time the adult dogs came rushing up to stop the fight there was nothing to distinguish one whelp from another - or from what was left of the swamp itself, for that matter.
It took hours to separate the combatants and days to get them cleaned up to the point where a matron could be sure she had her own whelp - even so, a few Manchester and Doberman free-loaders, who'd been caught in the fray, weren't identified for several months. In fact, to this day they haven't been able to get down to the original color of those whelps who'd been operating in the LaBrea area, and you know yourself that there's not a neutral acre left anywhere in California.
Naturally, after the worst was over nobody had any energy left for electioneering, even if they had found the ballot box - which they didn't, or had wanted to vote, which was no longer necessary because all the dogs of both parties had reached a simultaneous and unanimous decision: the big tails must GO! they were just too dangerous for whelps to play with.
So this is why our ancestors became land-dwelling Dachshunds, and why our tails look like paint-brushes instead of surf-boards.
It is also why we Dachshunds are non-partisan and avoid all political discussions. After all, eyebrows and a drop-seat are one thing - but have you ever seen a Dalmatian?

Related: Uncle Peterfritz's Lively Tails for Little Dachsies

Dachshunds in the White House

At his first press conference yesterday, the President-elect, Barack Obama, dealt with the biggest issue to date: The Dog. Seems like every dog discussion board wants their breed chosen, and every shelter and rescue organization is eagerly stepping forward to to provide the perfect canine as The First Dog for The First Family.
But let's face it folks, we hate to be the bearer of bad news, the "merchants of doom and gloom," but a dachshund probably isn't going to make it to the White House this time around, as a dachshund isn't commonly "hypo-allergenic," a necessary requirement because of Malia's allergies. We're hoping at least that a perfect "hypo-allergenic" dog or puppy can be found through a great rescue organization.

This of course begs the question: Has there ever been a dachshund in the White House? Has a dachshund ever been First Dog? We can answer this with a resounding YES!....a dachshund HAS been First Dog!

John F. Kennedy: John Fitzgerald "Jack" Kennedy, often referred to by his initials JFK, was the thirty-fifth President of the United States, serving from 1961 until his assassination in 1963.

This photo shows a young JFK, on a tour of Europe just before the outbreak of war, where he bought "a dachshund of great beauty" in Germany. The dog became a mascot on the journey. Source. We aren't aware that JFK had dachshunds while President however.

Dwight D. Eisenhower: Dwight David "Ike" Eisenhower was the thirty-fourth President of the United States from 1953 until 1961 and a five-star general in the United States Army.

While there is a rumour floating around the internet that Eisenhower had dachshunds before becoming President, we unfortunately don't fully trust the source. The disclaimer at this website reveals: Not all of the information on this page is entirely accurate, and not all the photos are in exactly their original state, but we believe, nonetheless, that it makes for an entertaining read.

Theodore Roosevelt: Teddy Roosevelt was the 26th President of the United States, serving from 1901 - 1909. A leader of the Republican Party and of the Progressive Party, he was a Governor of New York and a professional historian, naturalist, explorer, hunter, author, and soldier.

This is a photo of Teddy Roosevelt relaxing and reading with what is often attributed to be his pet "dachshund" on his lap; photo taken in 1905. The "dachshund" in this photo appears to be 'Skip,' a mongrel black and tan terrier of unknown breeding. We see some dachshund genes there though, and he sure is happy to be on his master's lap. You can read more about Skip and see more photos in a nice article at Terrierman.

Which brings us to Grover Cleveland: Stephen Grover Cleveland was both the twenty-second and twenty-fourth President of the United States. Cleveland is the only President to serve two non-consecutive terms (1885–1889 and 1893–1897) and thus is the only individual to be counted twice in the numbering of the presidents. He was the winner of the popular vote for President three times—in 1884, 1888, and 1892—and was the only Democrat elected to the Presidency in the era of Republican political domination that lasted from 1860 to 1912. Cleveland's admirers praise him for his honesty, independence, integrity, and commitment to the principles of classical liberalism.

Joey and Maggie, your investigative journalist hosts of The Long and Short of it All, did some research on dachshunds in the White House at a local University, and we found this interesting piece of news about Grover Cleveland from the Chicago Daily Tribune, February 12th, 1894, here's an excerpt:

PETS IN THE WHITE HOUSE GROUNDS: Besides the two babies, Esther and Ruth, there are innumerable pets at the White House. Scattered through the broad demesne belonging to the Chief Magistrate are myriads of hares running wild in the grounds and furnishing rare sport for the foxhounds and dachshounds (sic) belonging to Mrs. Cleveland. In the limpid pools of the rose and orchid houses attached to the conservatories are hundreds of imported fish, the principal being the many-tailed Japanese variety of goldfish and the famous paradise fish from Siam.
Game chickens of the shawineck breed are conspicuous whenever a visit is paid to the stables attached to the White House, and Coachman Willis is justly proud of the success which has attended his efforts in raising these pretty fowls. In quadrupeds there is almost every known specimen at the little pagoda-shaped sentry box on the east side of the mansion, where the White House babies in charge of their nurses can be seen every fair day. Gamboling about toddling Ruth, or hiding under the carriage containing infantile Esther, can be seen a cocker spaniel, beautifully marked in white and brown, or a collie, which, though a new arrival, seems perfectly at home amid his new surroundings. Hector, the well-known black French poodle of Mrs Cleveland, is at Buzzard's Bay for the winter, as a companion for the St. Bernard, famous as a medal winner. A bow-legged, squat-figured Dachshund, with long flapping ears, is a great pet with the occupants of the White House, being a recent importation from Germany. Until a few days ago, a voracious tulip-bulb fiend in the shape of a raccoon could be seen climbing up and down the trees facing the Treasury Department, but he made one foray too much, and the story is that a gardener's spade cut his earthly career short.
Mrs. Cleveland's ponies, a handsome pair of animals, which their mistress usually drives to a low and easy going phaeton, complete the list of pet animals contiguous to the White House, birds being tabooed inside the mansion.

So, dear dachshund readers, that's the long and short of it all, and all we can state at this time is that the last time a pure-bred dachshund was in the White House was under the leadership of Grover Cleveland, over 100 years ago. That's about 8 - 10 generations ago for us dachshunds....way too long! If anyone has any more information on a Dachshund First Dog, by all means please send it in!

Uncle Peterfritz's Lively Tails for Little Dachsies

by Frances Meusel for The American Dachshund, February, 1965

Once upon a time, Nephew Rufus, began Uncle Peterfritz, back in the olden days when all dogs looked alike and there were no such things as Poodles, there lived two handsome young pups who were forever trying to outdo each other.
If one of them chased a mouse, the other must pursue the cat; if this one jumped into a chair, that one must leap into a bed; and if the first got booted out, and whimpered, then the second must howl like a Baskerville when his turn came.
So it went, until the Human People who lived with them shook their heads and wondered where the rivalry would end.
Well, one summer day when it was so hot even the birds sat around with their tongues out and all the elder dogs stayed under the trees cooling their stomachs, these two pups lay side by side on the shaded verandah, apparently napping but in reality each casting about in his mind for something to accomplish - some act so daring and spectacular it would establish his supremacy over the other for once and for all.
As he lay thinking, one of them, whom we will call Rufus for convenience sake - no, I don't know whether that was really his name - don't interrupt!
As I was saying, this pup we'll call Rufus suddenly remembered that they were to have steak for dinner, and at the thought of it his tail began to wag of its own accord.
"Now, why are you wagging your tail?" asked his rival, who had been watching him suspiciously from the edge of an eye.
Rufus, not wanting to admit he wasn't absolute master of his own end, hurriedly put on a superior look and replied: "Because I do it so beautifully, of course! Need you ask?"
"I must say, you certainly have an overblown opinion of yourself!" remarked the other, "Entirely unwarrantable, too. For it so happens that I am a more accomplished tail-wagger than you could ever hope to be. See?" He drummed a quick tattoo with his, to demonstrate.
"You call that tail-wagging?" scoffed Rufus. "A Manx can do better! But get a load of this!" And he whipped his tail so rapidly and with such force that dust flew out of the porch rug.
The other pup got to his feet, "Phui! must you beat carpets on a day like today? I thought we were discussing tail-wagging. Because if we are, and it's RPM's you want - observe!" And he flung his tail back and forth with such rapidity that it sounded like a hurricane in a clothesline. It was a wonder it didn't snap off.
"You are creating quite a draft," sneered Rufus, also rising, "but I wasn't aware wind was the object. However, if it is tail-wagging you are attempting, permit me to show you what a wag really is!"
So, bracing his hind legs and digging his toes, Rufus wagged - only "wag" doesn't describe the way that tail travelled! You couldn't even see it was a tail; so swiftly did it fly it looked like a chiffon blur.
His rival didn't wait for him to finish. "Your reverse is absolutely sluggish!" he cried, above the zip and whish of Rufus' performance. "Can't you get it out of low? This is how is should be done - VAROOM!"
"Rank ameteur!" panted Rufus, incredibly revving it up.
"Dilettante!" puffed the other, beginning to vibrate all the way up to his ears.
Remember I told you it was a hot day? Well you know what excessive heat does to things, like ice cubes and asphalt? It softens them. And because dogs weren't as tough in those olden days as they are now, heat affected them pretty much as it does a lump of taffy candy; and you can guess what happens to warm taffy when you begin swinging it about at a fast clip!
Well, that's exactly what was happening to those two pups, only they were too furious to notice; the more they wagged, the more they elongated; and Dog knows what the outcome would have been if their mother hadn't come up to investigate the strange breeze whistling on the verandah.
"Whelp! Whelp!" she shrieked when she saw what they were doing. "Stop this at once! Oh, you mad, mad, mad, mad dogs - just see what you've done! You've wagged yourselves into Dachshunds!"
So that, Nephew Rufus, is how we happened to achieve our distinctive shape. And since the tail-wagging contest was broken up before a decision could be reached, each pup was convinced he'd won it, which is why every Dachshund, from that day to this, is certain he can beat any dog alive, only one must make sure the weather is just right before entering the competition.

(Above image: a 0.5" x 0.5" diagram with the story)

Dachshund Hush Puppies

During the War between the States when the Union forces were moving through the South the dogs would bark thereby drawing attention to the houses. In order to keep the dogs quiet the country folks would take them into the woods and give the dogs choice morsels of corn pone saying, "HUSH PUPPIES."

Hush... Hush, Sweet Dachshund. Urban myth? Read more about the origination of the term hush puppies at Google Answers.