It’s 8am and I’m attempting one of the hardest tasks of the day: negotiating with a five kilogram dog over a slice of Tesco Finest brisket.
I’m an Aldi shopper, so this is one of the nicer things in my fridge, but my dachshund Nelson is not impressed by my generosity because he sees right through me. This is, in fact, a bribe. Somewhere inside the carefully wrapped meat is a tiny tablet prescribed to him for anxiety. He carefully eats the brisket, spits out the medication and walks off in a huff, having once again outsmarted me before breakfast.
This is one of the occasions his social media followers would find hilarious. More than 60,000 people follow his antics online and over two million daily accounts watch him do what dachshunds do best: judge their owners, refuse to do anything that doesn’t fit their wants, and behave as though the world exists to simply inconvenience them.
I’m part of the reason these long-bodied, sassy creatures are everywhere. But while their stubbornness makes for excellent content, I have started to wonder whether the internet is showing us the best of sausage dogs without preparing people for the reality of owning one.
Last year, dachshunds became the UK’s most commonly bred puppies, overtaking the French bulldog for the first time in a decade, according to a report by Pets4Homes, the UK’s largest online marketplace for pets. It’s estimated they account for a third of the country’s puppies sales. Their rise has been impressive (in 2018, they were ranked 16th among puppies advertised for sale). Their popularity has been fuelled, in part, by social media, where their tiny legs, outsized personalities and apparent contempt for human authority have made them stars. But living with one is not always quite as funny as watching one on your phone.
Nelson was prescribed anxiety medication just over a month ago, after our vet and I agreed that he was struggling to cope when left alone. It’s been an ongoing issue since we brought him home in March, last year. We socialised him from a puppy, introduced him to people and other dogs, exposed him to every loud noise we could think of and gradually taught him to spend time independently.
Yet if either of us leave the house, he behaves as though the entire street is under siege, like an alarm is sounding in his head for danger. Add that to the fact we have to coax him out of his blanket den each morning, plead with him to go outside in the rain and convince him that the person walking outside our house is, in fact, not launching a full-scale attack on our family. Eventually, trying the medication the vet has mentioned several times seemed the only option left.
Nelson is one of two dachshunds I own. Rupert, at eight months old, is a much more carefree companion. He potters through life without a worry, completely oblivious to the world he’s in, too busy entertaining himself by chewing his own paws or rage baiting his brother. While I’m enjoying the peace, I suspect he has yet to unlock his full sausage-dog potential.
Nelson, meanwhile, has opinions on everything. He barks at the postman, announces every passer-by as an intruder, and treats the arrival of a stranger in our home like the opening scene of a horror film. Nail trimming is an act of unspeakable cruelty (he’ll give the silent treatment for at least two hours afterwards) and any rain is an unacceptable condition in which to conduct his basic bodily functions. Before venturing outside, he will extend one of his tiny legs through the door to test the weather, inspecting the grounds.
But he has amazing qualities; he’s fiercely loyal, affectionate, playful and very funny. Living with him (or alongside him in what he’d deem his house) is a joy, though, at times, exhausting.
I’d like to think I did my research into their breed before buying them. I was aware of their health risks – their long bodies and short legs put them at risk of intervertebral disc disease (IVDD), a spinal condition that can leave dogs in severe pain and, in some cases, unable to walk. Treatment can involve anything from strict rest to specialist surgery costing thousands of pounds.
What I hadn’t anticipated was just how much their individual personalities, and Nelson’s anxiety, would impact my day-to-day life. Perhaps I should have. According to Dachshund Health UK, one in five owners report them suffering from separation anxiety “always or often” and they’re widely recognised for being fearful. Dachshunds were originally bred in Germany to hunt badgers in burrows and tunnels. Being determined, alert and independent makes sense in a working dog, but can be less convenient when you’re attempting to walk them three metres in slight drizzle.
Of course, these quirks are precisely what have turned dachshunds into internet stars. Their refusal to acknowledge human authority has become a source of online entertainment. I’m hardly innocent in this, Nelson’s ruling of our household has gone viral repeatedly and my phone is full of hundreds of messages everyday asking what he’s been up to. Their appeal is obvious. Who wouldn’t laugh at a dog that looks like a furry baguette and behaves like an irritable micro manager?
Dr Linda Simon, a vet at Pooch & Mutt, says owners can underestimate the needs of smaller breeds. “People assume most smaller breeds are super easy. But sausage dogs aren’t lapdogs [like pugs], they need a lot of stimulation and exercise.”
Simon says dachshunds are among the breeds she commonly sees with slipped discs, and estimates that around 40 per cent of dachshunds will develop them. According to research by the Dachshund Breed Council, one in four will develop IVDD in their lifetime. It means that their energy levels need to be balanced against their physical vulnerabilities but, of course, explaining this to a stubborn 13cm tall dog is another matter. We have put mini stairs in every room to discourage our dogs from jumping on and off furniture, but when they’re excited they regard them as nothing more than decoration.
Simon adds there’s a lack of awareness around the high probability of their joint and spinal issues and it’s not her only concern. She sees dachshunds with skin allergies, ear infections associated with their floppy ears, and dental problems. “Social media only shows the funny, good and cute sides of owning a puppy. I think people buy puppies and aren’t prepared for adult dogs,” she says.
I’ve owned dogs before, and I prepared for the possibility of an expensive back problem (both dogs have eye-wateringly expensive insurance at £49 per month compared to the UK average of £11.09 and we have an emergency dog savings accounts) but I didn’t prepare for the daily negotiations, the barking, or the need to medicate a dog who can detect a tablet hidden inside a piece of premium beef.
The medication this month has cost £64 and every eight weeks he has a £60 cream for skin allergies. We’ve also paid for him to have swimming sessions (£50 for 20 minutes) to support his joints, and their food costs around £100 per month. Their harnesses are more expensive as they’re dachshund-specific (averaging £40 to £50) and each set of mini stairs in our house, six of them, are £30 each.
While Nelson’s anxiety has been difficult to manage, it would be wrong to assume every dachshund is the same, Rupert is proof of that, but when I asked his followers about their dogs tendencies, it sounded all too familiar.
“They’re so stubborn and need lots of attention.”
“They need more exercise than people think.”
“Very hard work, I can’t stress that enough. Very time consuming.”
There were also floods of positives I agree with, including their loyalty and being the most loving breed you’ll come across.
Hannah Birrell, known as The Dog Psychologist, says resilience varies considerably between individual dogs, even within the same litter. “Certain dogs have a natural resilience. How well they cope with different changes hugely varies within individual dogs,” she says.
Birrell shares Simon’s concerns that their appearance is bringing in more owners unaware of their needs, particularly as certain coat colours like dappled puppies (like Nelson and Rupert) are becoming sought after. “When you breed for colour, you’re not breeding for personality or health,” she says. “They’re bred to hunt and people are generally picking them based on appearance, which means they might be getting a dog whose needs cannot be met in a pet home.”
I can hardly pretend that appearance played no part in my own decision. I’m biased, but my dogs’ coats are beautiful, their faces are expressive, and their little bodies make them look as though they have been designed specifically to be on camera. But a dog is not a social-media aesthetic, they’re animals with needs that will remain long after the novelty of puppyhood – or the next viral video.
As dachshunds become more popular, the question is whether our understanding of the breed is keeping up with their social media appeal. People know they can be vulnerable to serious spinal problems, but their behaviour and temperament needs just as much attention from prospective buyers.
I adore my two sausage dogs. I spend most of my life working around them and asking them (out loud) if they’re having a good day, but they’re much more than a funny caption on Instagram – getting one is accepting the training, daily negotiatians, constant entertainment they need and potentially expensive vet appointments.
As one of Nelson’s followers said to me recently: “They may look cute, but don’t underestimate them.”