Ah, Dachshunds — the badger dogs. We all know Dachshunds are badger dogs, but what do we know about badgers? This: Badgers are big, mean and fearless. They have long teeth, sharp claws, and a distinct dislike for almost everything, including little wiener dogs that want to tear up their homes and destroy them. Dachshunds don’t care. Utterly brave, smart and completely determined, they’ll dig right down that old badger hole and drag the varmint up so you can finish it off.
Oh, you don’t go badger hunting? That’s okay. Even if badger hunting is not your cup of tea, it’s comforting to know that should one suddenly pop up out of the ground to terrorize your family, your faithful Dachsie stands ready to kill it. In the Dachshund’s native Germany, when badgers were in short supply, hunters simply gathered packs of the dogs to run down wild boar. Okay, so perhaps both varminty badgers and wild boar are scarce around your homestead. But even if you never ever see a badger or a boar in your life, don’t worry. Dachshunds are versatile hunters and loyal companions.
Dachs-Attack
Susan Watts of Tollgate Dachshunds in Upper Black Eddy, Pennsylvania, owns a Dachshund named Ben. “My friends all call him Bennie Hanah Ninja Deer Slayer,” Watts says. “The Deer Slayer part came after we moved to the country and Ben saw his first deer. Like any good Dachshund, Ben trotted over to investigate, and actually sniffed the deer’s nose. Then he trotted on past, because he didn’t feel it was necessary to bother the deer. He just wanted to check it out,” Watts explains.
“However, the deer had other thoughts and decided to chase Ben,” Watts says. “But before I could even start running over to avert what I thought was sure disaster, Ben had wheeled around and actually attacked the deer! I can’t tell you how funny it was to watch 15-pound Ben chasing a 100-pound deer from his yard! He came trotting back over to me, head and tail held high, just prancing as if to say, ‘The nerve of that thing trying to chase me in my own yard!’”
This story exemplifies the boldness and brashness of Dachshunds. I’m not sure what is weirder — a Dachshund attacking a deer or a deer attacking a Dachshund. Either one seems an unlikely scenario. At least they didn’t kill each other.
Still, most of the Dachsies I see today are more interested in running down the refrigerator than boars, badgers or deer, but Linda Hess-Layne of Tulsa, Oklahoma, explains how Dachshunds have adjusted their hunting habits to contemporary American game. “Abby, our smooth standard Dachshund, is fearless and very protective of her family,” Hess-Layne explains. “At the car wash, she tries to bite the pressurized sprayer as it passes over the car. She whines, barks and bites at the windows in an attempt to get that evil sprayer, jumping from seat to seat,” Hess-Layne adds.
“The same thing happens at the house when I vacuum. She tries to attack it, and if our German Shepherd attempts to join in the attack, Abby turns around and snaps at him. She wants the kill all to herself.”
Abby’s protective daring extends to the most fearsome of objects, Hess-Layne continues. “Once she jumped into the tub with my daughter when she was taking a bubble bath. Abby hates water, but was bound and determined to kill the soap bubbles.”
Guardian Dachshund
Dachshunds do have a more serious side, however. Helen Seldon of Suffolk, Virginia, had a black standard rescued Dachshund named Susie who saved her life. Susie had been abandoned in a garage when Seldon took her in. The dog didn’t care for men in general, and whenever one came to visit, she would sit protectively on Seldon’s feet snarling at the intruder. If Seldon got up, Susie remained between her and the male visitor. All this was cute (if mildly annoying), of course, until the day when Susie’s suspicions paid off big time.
One warm September night after Seldon had put her sons to bed, she went to her den to read with Susie curled up by her side. Then Susie became fidgety, pacing back and forth. “She went to the back door, whined, then came back to me. Her anxiety increased as the minutes ticked on,” Seldon explains. “Finally, she became so agitated that I became alarmed myself. I flicked the back floodlights on and let her out the door in one quick motion. All of a sudden I heard a huge clatter and a loud bump. I could hear Susie barking and barking.”
A neighbor, who had been on his back porch when the commotion began, called and told Seldon to stay in the house. Seldon’s neighbor came over to the house, gun drawn (he was an FBI agent). It seemed that a Peeping Tom who had been terrorizing two young women several houses down had increased his territory.
Buckets had been turned upside down under Seldon’s window (which had been jimmied) and used to climb up to the window. Had Susie not alerted, the authorities believed the intruder would have been in Seldon’s house within minutes. The intruder was caught and charged, according to Seldon. “So, you see, rescue is a two-way street,” Seldon says. “My Susie rescued me: She saved my life and possibly the life of my two little boys.”