A Dachshund's Viewpoint

Why do I write from a dachshund's viewpoint?

Oh, I've been asked that question countless times . . . and I always give the same answer, basically something like this:

It is a running joke in our family that we just know what a dachshund is thinking by its facial expression and body language. My late father used to tell us what our dachshunds were thinking, and I believe I have inherited that 'gene' for doing so. All of this is tongue in cheek, of course—and it makes for many a laugh around our house."

For example, I watched my dachshund Duke closely if I thought he was up to something. If he looked at one of us imploringly, it could’ve  meant:  (1) he wanted to go out; (2) he was hungry; (3) he wanted us to play with him. So I interpreted his wishes for my husband: “Daddy, I wish you’d put down that newspaper and throw my ball for me. Mama has been at the computer all day, ignoring me. I need to have some fun around here, you know!” Voila—Duke’s thoughts. It’s not necessarily a talent (maybe even a bit silly to those who are not dog lovers), but we all got a good chuckle out of my interpretations.

In addition, Duke, like most dogs, exhibited traits quite similar to humans. Here are some actual examples of his “people-like” traits: 

     * He often tried to annoy Granddawg Shadow by taking a squeak toy and running with it, growling: "C'mon, boy! See if you can take this away from me!" Duke even flaunted the toy in Shadow’s face, daring him to take it. (Note: Shadow thought all toys are his). 

     * He talked back by barking at me when I told him he couldn’t do something (like get on my lap when I was drinking hot coffee). He also knew when we were making fun of him, and he didn’t like that, either!

     * He was loving by giving doggie kisses and wanting to be close.

     * But perhaps one of the most endearing traits I found was his playfulness; Duke was downright comical! He had a strong sense of play, including his human companions whenever possible. One night, six of us—four adults and two young children, were flying paper airplanes around the living room, and Duke joined right in, jumping up and trying to snatch one out of the air. He finally succeeded, then ran into another room with it, much to the delight of the grandchildren. He liked to grab balloons when we were batting them around in the air, too, but dodn’t care too much for the noise they made when his sharp teeth caused them to pop.

The current doxie in our family is Sunny our granddawg, a smooth red mini. (Shadow and Duke both passed in 2017)

For the uninitiated, dachshunds can display a myriad of facial expressions and body language--and I proclaim that dogs can smile! When unhappy, their ears practically drag the floor, along with a somber face and sad eyes (and they know what they’re doing). Shadow used to soulfully look up at any human who happened to be eating, imploring with those brown eyes: "Puleeze give me some." Duke, on the other hand, didn’t merely look sad—he would join the food on the plate if he could reach it. He once snatched my piece of toast off my plate—and it was on the kitchen counter, so don't let those short dachshund legs fool you. 

 Chow hounds extraordinaire, dachshunds have one of the strongest senses of smell in the canine world, according to The American Kennel Club, so food is exceptionally enticing to their noses. Therefore, I also write about food a lot: how it smells, its consistency, and how it tastes, all in great detail, as I imagine that our doxies would do if they could write.

Dachshunds are especially concerned for someone who is sick or upset. If one of the grandchildren was crying, Duke wanted to comfort by giving doggie kisses and lying next to the child. After my knee replacement surgeries a few years ago, Duke stayed right by my side while I recuperated. I appreciate how well he took care of me! I know he would have made me a cup of hot tea if he could have done so, too. I have incorporated that caring attitude into my books, as as Sarge in my books (based on Shadow) often relates his feelings about some happening in particular. 

My other reasons (besides the “gene” thing) for writing from the dog's viewpoint are:

1) I enjoy imagining how day-to-day happenings must appear to the family dog;

2) I can shift reality to share with readers what dogs think about life situations;

3) I have a zany sense of humor (my family can attest to that), and can use such humor when incorporating it into the dog’s viewpoint;

4) I love and appreciate dogs as man's best friend. They show us unconditional love, like God has for us. One of the characters in THE DACHSHUND ESCAPADES series, Papa Duke, so aptly states my feelings about dogs:

"A dawg loves you no matter what. You can be ugly, old, even dumb--but a dawg don't care. All he wants is your love and some food now and then. I think dawgs represent the unconditional love God has for us--maybe that's why He created them, to show that to us."

Papa Duke was my late father, who loved dogs tremendously—and they returned the favor. He was always called “Papa” by his grandchildren, and in my books, he lives on, just like he does in our hearts.

For those of us who love our dogs, my doggie stories give us a glimpse into our dogs’ views on life. Oh, they’re not Shakespeare, but they read just fine for us dog lovers. Or so I'm told.  

My doxie Duke, who was no doubt watching for food!