Acquired: Breeder (hobby breeder)
Training: I’ve taught bird care / training techniques
Posted September 30, 2014
By some house members Rocky was believed to be born stupid. It was a trait he showed at very early age and one he continued proving as he grew older. Bitting everything, eating all he could fit into his mouth, slamming his head into walls and burrying important things in the backyard were just some of his actions that led my mother to question his intelligence.
I almost believed her while I was trying to housebreak him since he showed no will to learn and zero remorse about his actions. He used to boycott dog walks and had no understanding of common courtesy. He'd never wanted to sleep on the pad we assigned him and would always wake us up as soon as he was awake.
At this point I almost gave up on him but luckily my father decided to take us hunting. He was unusually nervous during our first ride to the forest, since all his car rides so far ended with him strapped to the veterinarians table. But upon our arrival it was obvious that this was where he belongs. He spent the day running through the fields and meadows, catching mice, chasing pheasants and creating hunting opportunities that left even my father, a man with decades of experience with hunting dogs, impressed. Upon our return home, he dragged himself to the sleeping pad and crashed from exhaustion. Seeing him happy made me very happy too.
Having seen his behavior in the forrest I began to notice that his alleged low intelligence wasn't low intelligence at all. He was just extremely stubborn and had a very expressed personality. What ever was being done had to be done his way or not at all. As soon as I figured that out his training became a breeze. He stopped boycotting dog walks as soon as I let him dictate the way we would walk. At first I thought it was humiliating to have the dog walk me instead the other way around but have soon learned to trust him and his decisions. In certain cases that meant walking in small circles or going crazy over squirells, but mostly it just meant following the greenest areas my town could offer. He loved parks, trees and other greenery.
He never got along with other dogs or children in the neighbourhood, barking or growling at them whenever they came too close, but always understood the importance of house guests and remained very polite in social situations such as those.
He was still the happiest when we would return to the forrest, which made my father take him hunting more often. As he grew older he became fearless in his hunting adventures. He would chase animals twenty times his size into bushes without ever even looking back. It was a virtue that eventually led him to his death. One day he ran into the bush after a large deer. He came out from the bush limping and died the second day in my fathers arms.
He didn't have the chance to live a long life with my family but that stubborn little dog was by far the best pet I could ever imagine having.
I would recommend Dachshunds to every family who wants a loyal pet, a pet with a unique personality and quirky habits. Daschunds are entertaining, funny and loving dogs, perfect for children and especially hunters, with whom they will easily become best friends in a matter of days.