My Boys
I am the lucky dog dad to three neurotic dachshunds, each with their own personality, quirks, and interests. I call them "my boys". They call me... well, nothing because they can't talk, but if they could talk, they'd call me "Dad." Until mid-2025, I also had another little fur buddy, a black and tan dachshund named Nicholas; he passed away at the young age of 5 from complications of a serious disease that is well-known to the breed. Regardless, dachshunds will always be my breed of choice and my furry, loyal, sweet, cuddly, odd, quirky, demanding, and lazy little companions for the rest of my life. If you want to know more about the breed and what makes them so special, I suggest checking out this page all about dachshunds and their unique bodies, personalities, and temperament.
Anyway, these are my boys:
Noel - My 6-year-old drama queen. We took him home in December not long before Christmas, so we gave him a suitable Christmas name, thus Noel. Most people assume, based on his name, that he is a female. He is not. Noel is the most intelligent of any dachshund that I've had the pleasure of sharing my life with. He has an extremely large vocabulary, a memory of words and their linked meanings and events that is quite impressive, self-taught himself to play "soccer" with his "big ball" and loves to play fetch with bouncy balls of all sizes from mouth-sized to beach-ball-sized. He also loves frisbees and those large, colorful buttons that you can pre-record with phrases that play when you press them. Below that athletic exterior, though, lies the heart of a drama queen. Noel will frequently pout when he doesn't get his way, make loud noises and signs to let you know that he is not happy about the current situation and, when he really wants something, will "sausage" below or in front of whatever it is he's forbidden from having (literally, he flops down like a furry sausage on his side while sighing loudly and looking pitiful until you notice him...and if you don't notice him, he'll get up again, sign or moan louder and flop down again). This also means he's very emotionally intelligent; he can detect immediately when I'm upset or angry or having a bad day and will come to me without me saying a word, get into my lap, put his paws on my chest and silently lay against me, as if giving me a hug to say, "Daddy, it's going to be okay." He's usually right
Rowan - My 10-month-old mischief maker. We got Rowan unexpectedly after Nicholas passed away. We didn't think we were ready for another little boy in our life just yet, but sometimes fate conspires to bring you exactly what you need whether you think you do or not. Rowan is an extremely soft and "noodle-y" little red-haired dachshund (his name literally means "little red one"). He was the runt of his litter and he is the smallest of any non-miniature dachshund I've ever had. He's spry and intelligent, and loves to root through the giant box of toys that we have in the house full of various plush, rigid, and squeaky objects to play with. Every day, Rowan can be found digging toy after toy out of the giant wooden box in the living room and dragging them all about the house before losing interest and grabbing another one. He is still learning that the toys are to be SHARED, so we are still instilling discipline and the idea that not every toy is his. He also likes to pile all of his chosen toys for the day into a large pile in the living room and then lay on top of them, like some medieval dragon protecting his stash. When he's not playing with his toys, he loves to find ways to cause mischief, whether that's trying to sneak up the stairs which he knows he's not allowed to climb, running off with the odd object that daddy left within reach, or bringing various leaves and sticks covertly inside and hiding them around the house. He aso tries to hide when he's been caught by smashing himself against a wall or the bottom of a stair, apparently believing that he is a chameleon and can simply blend in with his environment. He's also very "squishy" and light, making him feel like half-dacshund and half-ferret, which fits his personality very well. Don't let this one fool you... he's always scheming something.
Kyran - My 8-month-old linebacker and cuddle boy. Kyran (pronounced "Kear-in", like "Fear In") was completely unexpected. We never wanted three dachshunds - two is a lot to handle as it is. But, when we were told about Kyran, at just 8 weeks old, sitting in a shelter alone after being seriously abused by his prior family's child and then left in the street outside of the shelter, barely avoiding being hit by passing cars, I knew at once this little boy was meant for us to take in. We rescued him and brought him into a loving and supportive family who deeply understands dachshunds and how emotionally connected they are. It has taken us quite a while to get him over his fear of people, which he's better at but still working on, and he is an absolute cuddle bug with us at home. He's also our largest dachshund ever, weighing close to 21 pounds at just 8 months old...and still growing. He will likely be a "full-size" black and tan dachshund. He's not overweight, he's just BIG and muscular. He's like a sweet, cuddly linebacker. He likes to play with his brothers, especially when a full-on game of "chase and bark like maniacs" is involved, he loves to be held and cuddled with, and he is more often than not a "daddy's boy", following Daddy around like a shadow throughout the house. He's also the most protective of the household, often watching out the front window to bark at anything that looks the least bit suspicious, like the neighbor coming home from work. He has even protected us successfully against an antique chair that was brought into the house that he decided may leap out and grab any family member at any moment; he made sure it was growled and barked into submission. While probably not the smartest of his brothers, he certainly has the most heart and is fiercely protective and loyal. Oh, and, yes, his name means "little black one."
Rest in Peace, Nicholas
My sweetest little boy, Nicholas, passed away on July 4, 2025 from complications of IVDD, a degenerative spinal condition common in dachshunds that can cause debilitating pain, paralysis, and life-threatening complications. We had to say goodbye to him at just 5 years old, and I will miss my "little fat boy" forever.
Why "little fat boy"? When I first saw him, among his other littermates in a small pen on a ranch near Luckenbach, Texas, he was this chunky, chubby, bold little puppy who stepped on and over his brothers and sisters to come running up to me, putting his little chubby paws up on the pen, his tiny jowls drooping. I immediately picked him up and exclaimed, "I want the little fat boy!" I guess sometimes you do fall in love at first sight, and the nickname stuck even as he thinned out over the years.