Why Dachshunds Think They Run the House (Spoiler: They Do)
Posted by WizardWheeze | Dog Life | 8 min read
Let's get one thing straight before we begin.
You did not adopt a dachshund. You were selected by one. There is a difference, and your dachshund has been very clear about this from day one, even if it took you a little while to catch on.
You thought you were bringing home a dog. A small, manageable, low-to-the-ground dog. Adorable. Compact. Easy.
What you actually brought home was a chief executive in a fur coat, and your house, your house, is now their headquarters.
Don't feel bad. It happens to all of us. The important thing is that we talk about it.
The Takeover Begins Earlier Than You Think
Most dachshund owners assume the power shift happens gradually. A slow, subtle renegotiation of household hierarchy over months or years.
It doesn't. It happens on day one.
The moment your dachshund crossed the threshold, they conducted a rapid structural assessment of the property. Load-bearing sofas. Strategic sightlines from the window. Optimal napping zones by radiator proximity. Escape routes. Treat storage locations. The precise acoustic properties of the kitchen when a bag rustles.
By the time you'd put the kettle on, they had a complete operational picture of their new domain. You were simply the staff.
The Sofa Is Not Your Sofa
Let's be honest about the sofa situation.
You bought it. You assembled it (or paid someone to assemble it, which counts). You have been sitting on it for years. Your name is on the receipt.
None of this matters.
The sofa belongs to your dachshund. You are permitted to sit on it, but only in the sections they haven't claimed, and only when they're feeling magnanimous. The moment they decide they need the full length of the cushions, and they will decide this, usually at the exact moment you've just got comfortable, you will move. You will tell yourself you were going to get up anyway.
You weren't. You both know it.
The Stare
Every dachshund owner knows The Stare.
It happens most often during meals. You are eating. They are not eating. They are simply sitting approximately forty centimetres from your plate, radiating a silence so pointed it has its own gravitational field.
The Stare says: I am not begging. I would never beg. I am simply making you aware of the profound injustice currently taking place in this kitchen.
It is remarkably effective. Multiple scientific studies have not confirmed this but it is absolutely true that dachshund owners give up significantly more of their meals than owners of any other breed. The Stare is a form of psychic negotiation that your dachshund has been practicing since puppyhood and has perfected to an art form.
You will hand over a piece of whatever you're eating. You will tell yourself it's the last time. It is not the last time.
The Rules (As Understood By Your Dachshund)
Over time, certain household rules have been established. You may not have been consulted on these rules. You may not have been informed they existed. Nevertheless:
Rule 1: Walkies happen on their schedule, not yours. They will indicate readiness by staring at their lead, staring at you, staring at the lead, and then sitting down decisively near the door. If you do not respond within sixty seconds, they will repeat this process with additional sighing.
Rule 2: The good blanket, the soft one, the one you bought for yourself, is theirs now. It has been theirs since approximately the second week. This is not up for discussion.
Rule 3: Any visitor to the house must be thoroughly investigated before being permitted to sit down. This investigation involves sniffing, circling, and an extended period of pointed ignoring before your dachshund deigns to accept their presence. Some visitors never achieve full approval. This is their problem.
Rule 4: Burrowing under the duvet is not a request. It is a notification. You will lift the duvet. You will do this cheerfully.
Rule 5: The phrase "get down" is understood but treated as optional.
The Stubbornness Is the Point
Here is what separates dachshunds from every other small dog: they were bred to hunt badgers.
Not retrieve things. Not herd sheep. Not sit nicely on a lap. Hunt. Badgers. Alone. Underground.
This requires a specific psychological profile. You cannot send an animal into a tunnel after a badger and have it respond to commands issued from thirty feet above ground. The dachshund had to make its own decisions. Trust its own instincts. Refuse to give up.
Six hundred years of selective breeding have produced an animal that is, at its core, magnificently certain of itself.
When your dachshund decides the walk is going the other direction, or that they are not moving from this particular spot, or that the new dog food is unacceptable despite being identical to the old dog food, that's not stubbornness. That's a working dog doing what it was bred to do. Making a judgement call. Sticking to it.
You cannot argue with this. You can only negotiate. And you will negotiate from a position of weakness, because your dachshund has more patience than you do and they both know it.
The Warmth at the End of the Day
Here's the part nobody warns you about.
After the food drama and the sofa negotiations and the wilful refusal to come inside when called despite it being absolutely freezing, at the end of the day, your dachshund finds you.
Not the warmest spot in the house. Not the softest bed. You.
They press their warm, ridiculous, sausage-shaped body against you at the end of the day as if to say: this. This is the good bit.
And it is. It really, genuinely is.
They're stubborn, dramatic, occasionally baffling, and completely convinced that the household revolves around them.
They're also the best thing in it.
All sausage. No compromise.
If you're a dachshund owner who lives by that code - or if you know one who does - head over to wizardwheeze.store. We made something just for you.