At present, Packy, our lively and spirited Dachshund is on "vacation" visiting his girlfriend. He will be gone for a week. We're back to 3 dogs, all medium-sized -- 2 Dalmatians and 1 native dog with mixed German Shepherd blood (the adopted).
The Dachshund Packy came into our lives, a gift from my cousin Marie, 7 years ago. But Packy was not our first encounter with his breed. Earlier there was another Dachshund named Tootsie. But Tootsie wasn't ours. She was stationed with us for awhile for housebreaking until Marie could take her home to keep her elderly mother company.
When Tootsie came into our house as a 3-month old puppy she was small as a rat. But very lively. Her playmates towered above her -- a Boxer and a Dalmatian -- but the instigator to all those chases and wrestling matches was Tootsie. My elderly dad would watch the dogs at play, crossing and re-crossing the open doorway of his ground floor bedroom, wrestling and chasing each other until we could hear their breathless puffs. He would marvel at how that little pup could lead the pack from start to finish. Tootsie had no concept of size. "She doesn't know how small she is," my dad would remark.
Frankly, my own observation on life from that little dog's attitude was a marvel: if you believe in yourself, you will make it even in a world of giants!
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| Tootsie cozies herself up to Spot during naptime. |
After a month, Tootsie's training period ended and my cousin Marie came to pick her up. But she saw the look in my dad's face. That little lively Dachshund pup who gave him so many days of amusement at her antics, would be with us no more. The result -- Marie sent my dad a new Dachshund pup a few weeks later. That was how Packy came to live with us.
Packy had a different temperament, however. He was not as playful as Tootsie. He was more serious. What was more important to him was his leadership in the pack -- and asserting it. By that time I had 2 Dalmatians (the Boxer died already) so his packmates were taller than he. In their canine hierarchy at home, he was Dog No.3. But to be No.3 -- he refused. He kept bullying our Dog No. 2, our Dalmatian named Toby. After careful thought and noticing Toby's submissive nature, I switched the 2 dogs' positions, moving Packy up as Dog No.2 and Toby down as Dog No.3. Toby accepted his new social assignment obediently.
Would Packy try to displace Spotty, my Dog No.1 too? I saw him trying. The Dachshund was more assertive; the Dalmatians were submissive. But to be sure, I defended Spot's social position. I knew Spot was accustomed to his position as the Top Dog.
In Packy's attempts to climb one more rung up the canine social ladder to displace Spot, there would be fights. I saw that Spot will not give way. For example, when it's walk time and the dogs get excited, my maids are instructed to follow the sequencing: Spot, Packy, then Toby. But because Packy is so noisy and assertive, sometimes the maid would be pressured to choose him first.
The brawls would be ear-splitting. I'd hear Packy's hysterical screams loud enough to raise the dead above Spot's throaty growls. We'd rush to the scene and find the little dog grabbed by the scruff of his neck by the bigger Dalmatian and shaken vigorously side to side like a little rat. My maid would pull Spot's hind legs to distract the angry older dog and this would cause Spot to release the struggling Packy. But do you think that would end it? As soon as I get Packy in my hands the dog would slip out of my grasp quickly and attack right back! Screaming his head off he'd leap back towards Spot to continue the brawl.
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| Packy crosses the 4-foot high dog walk agility equipment. Though the bar jumps are barred from Dachshunds because of their long spine, Packy does well on the contact equipment (seesaw, dog walk, and tunnels) |
But Packy is not all tension and trouble. One of the most delightful experiences I have with him was when I tried to restore my childhood memories of dogs howling at the church bells located a block behind our house. I've lived here since I was born and the church behind us has grown bigger to one day have huge bells installed in their bell tower. When I was a kid we had 7 native dogs and we'd have an earful of howling and singing dogs every time the bells rang for Angelus, everyday for Mass, at Easter dawn Mass, or for midnight Christmas Mass. Life was simple then, and the problems of modern man and congested city life was yet unheard of. So when urbanization reached fever pitch level many years later, a "noise pollution" complaint was raised in the neighborhood. The priests ceased to use the bells. For the next several decades the church bells were silent. As a result our dogs had no chiming bells to howl to -- and nothing to pass on to next-generation pack members.
But by the next century, Packy revived it. One day the church, now a cathedral shrine, decided to revive the old customs. When the bells rang merrily in the air after a silence of 5 decades, Packy howled long and hard at it. Oh wait, he did not howl. It was more of a rap. It was a fast staccato kind of bark with rhythmic pauses, like he was rapping. A week after, Toby the Dalmatian picked it up, like a back-up singer. Toby howled like a real dog, his neck stretched to the sky, howling to his heart's content.
Our childhood "landmark" memory was restored by Packy.
Living with a Dachshund gives you stories to remember during his lifetime. The breed is feisty, lively, creative, independent, will try to outsmart you, and will always entertain you.
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| Packy emotes like a canine model at a Christmas greeting pictorial I did last year for an e-card to send to friends and family. |
However, when Packy left us to live with his girlfriend for a week, this small little dog left a void in our lives. The house fell silent. I didn't know what "real gentlemen" my other dogs were. Dalmatians are known to bark sparingly and I finally saw that trait. I realized that little dog influenced the rest of the pack, making the rest noisy and rowdy as he was. But with Packy gone, the dogs were well behaved. Gone was the rivalry. When there was a visitor they came to inspect but there was no competition. They didn't jump, bark, and bump around.
The day after Packy left, the church bells rang that early morning at 6:00am. I was half-expecting to hear the usual racket. Our half-darkened house echoed with the sound of the bells but no dog howled. With no Packy to instigate it, no dog howled at the bells.
In our house, it's Packy who influences the pack. This little dog truly believes in himself that our bigger dogs have learned to follow him.
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