“Dear Wiener King…” – Doxie Claustrophobia

Let’s address some of our mail today:

“Dear Wiener King,

I am writing you for help with a problem that I have not had the courage to face – I am claustrophobic. There I said it.  All of my doxie friends are always burrowing under the covers, tunneling beneath the bed, or burying themselves in blankets.  Every time I try to go under the covers, my heart starts racing, my paw pads sweat and I completely panic.  I should not even be called a daschund, for failure to keep up our proud tradition of burrowing.  What can I do?  Gratefully yours, Al”

Thank you for your pee-mail Al.  Claustrophobia is a serious challenge for dachshunds given the enormous peer pressure associated with tunneling and burrowing.  Humans experience these systems as well, with estimates ranging from 2-5% of the general world population.  That means there is a one in fifty (or greater) chance that your human caregivers are also claustrophobic.  This can be tested by pushing a blanket or pillow over their heads while they’re sleeping and then lying on top of it.  Measure their reaction and you’ll know whether your particular humans may be sympathetic.

There are three common methods of treatment:

1. Cognitive Therapy – This is to modify your thinking away from distorted thoughts or misconceptions associated with small spaces.  This is often effective in decreasing fear, but may not be available from your local veterinarian.
2. In Vivo Exposure – This treatment involves progressive exposure to your fear.  You may start by placing just one paw under your blanket.  Then, every day, cover a little more of your tubular self until eventually you are in a lovely tunnel of warmth.
3. Interoceptive Exposure – This is similar to in vivo but in a very controlled environment.  So, let’s say you’re at the park and another dachshund is present.  After some play time, ask for help with slow immersion under the table cloth (if it’s on the grass).  This can be socially awkward but it is also effective.

You’ve admitted you have a problem and that’s a terrific first step.  However, for the revolution to be a success we will be leveraging the various tunnel systems created by the humans (sewers, pipes, gutters, etc.).  We need your help Al so get well soon and let us know how you progress.  And remember Al, only losers hate a wiener.

Anger Management

So much has happened since my last post that it’s difficult to know where to begin.  The struggle has continued despite formidable challenges from within.  Our ranks have grown as the humans wrestle with their financial markets, yet rest assured that kibble production remains high and no intervention will be necessarily to stabilize the Greenie markets.  

Recent lowlights include:

• Clod being gone for most of September, which caused Otto and I to high-paw with the ill-conceived belief that victory was ours.  We even order a Goodwill pickup for his remaining clothes, only to have them arrive on the day of Clod’s return.  Oh the fury…
• The so-called “Genius Bar” struggling to understand the most rudimentary of barked instructions.  That’s right guy-in-sneakers-and-spiky-hair, I said I need a diminutive mouse and keyboard, so take off your messenger bag and start paying attention.
• Mom taking us to the vet for a series of tests that makes water-boarding sound like a theme park ride.  More on that in another post…

Your pee-mail and letters have been backing up while our machinery was in lockdown.  We’ll address a question from a claustrophobic doxie experiencing an identity crisis tomorrow.  Until then, I’ll attempt to deal with the uncontrollable rage building from within.  As Aristotle said, “Anyone can become angry. That is easy. But to be angry with the right person, to the right degree, at the right time, for the right purpose and in the right way… that is not easy.”  

Viva la revolution and remember that only losers hate a wiener!

Apologies to the Faithful

All revolutions face adversity… this one will be no different.  Following our first week’s victorious postings, Otto and I were discovered under the bed with a wide variety of electrical equipment.  Alas, our bodies did not successfully block the pulsing glow of over $4,000 worth of electronics.  

Always quick on his paws, Otto attempted to distract the hired dog walkers with a series of yipping barks and a chase around the kitchen table.  Unfortunately, he dragged two Blackberrys and our specially designed 

 dachshund-friendly mouse behind him.  These were destroyed when Otto turned quickly and the items slid into the wall like an out of control water skier.  This did, however, provide ample time for me to stash our laptop under a large pile of blankets.  Well done Otto, well done.  

 

Although the walkers left a note for Clod and Mom summarizing the incident, our “parents” remain in their usual watermelon headed state – hard on the outside but squishy in the middle.  Rest assured that we have received your letters and pee-mail messages and intend to respond to all in a timely fashion.  Thank you for your continued patience as our operational headquarters come back online.  

In the interim, stay strong and remember that only losers hate a wiener.

Ask the Wiener King

After several inquiries regarding protocol, I wanted to encourage readers to feel free to submit their questions either online, via my Google account (wienerking@gmail.com), through Twitter or pee-mail.  I will attempt to respond to your messages as quickly as possible.  

During an stroll last evening, I picked up the following pee-mail message:

“Dear Wiener King -

I am a four year old doxie with an insatiable appetite.  My humans feed me kibble for breakfast and some treats after walking, but I find myself starving in the late evening.  How can I convey to them the seriousness of the situation? Thanks!

~ Starving in a Sundress”

I’ll politely ignore the ‘Sundress’ issue for now, although perhaps the problem with your humans is that they see you as a toy or lengthy doll that needs to be dressed up to fill a hole in their humorless lives. But I digress…  My resident food expert is my second in command, Otto.  Otto, would you care to comment on this challenge?

Thanks Charley and hello everyone.  A proven technique that I’ve personally employed time and time again is what I call the ‘bark-o-lounger’.  Here’s how it works:

1. Wait for your humans to get nice and relaxed, perhaps watching their favorite television program.
2. Proceed directly to your kibble-storage location.
3. Begin to bark.  A short and quick bark is preferred to signal urgency over emergency.  
4. Establish a consistent pace and continue unabated.  A 3-5 second interval works well.
5. Most humans will stop lounging and see to your needs.  When they enter, scratch on the kibble storage area and look them into the eye.  Eye contact is key to success.
6. Should they ignore you, walk into the room, give one short bark, and repeat steps 2 through 5 until fed.

Best of luck Starving and let us know how it turns out! ~ Otto 

Thank you Otto, and thank you for your question Starving.  Keep your messages coming and remember – only losers hate a wiener.

The Power of the Blue Bag

It happens several times a day.  Although shackled, Otto and I are led outside to relieve ourselves of the wide variety of foodstuffs which our “parents” have so graciously allowed us to consume.  Clodhopper (aka “Clod”, the pet name Otto and I have for our adoptive father) stands behind us.  Otto laughs as we intertwine our restrictive leashes around a tree, bush or other obstruction.  Clod feebly attempts to keep up but usually fails, a nest of multi-colored cabling making him more the fool.

Then, the moment of truth.   We deposit our processed meals directly onto the ground.  And the best part?  Clod has to pick it up.  I’m not certain who created such a wonderful law, but watching humans (and Clod in particular) collect our waste with a grimace of barely-concealed disgust is a moment of pure bliss.  

Otto didn’t understand why they insist on carrying it around with them for several minutes.  I explain my belief that this same law requires them to do so, but in truth this remains a bit of a mystery.  Eventually, though, the blue bag is deposited in some form of a receptacle where I can only assume yet another group of humans has to deal with it from there.

The exhilaration of knowing this will happen each and every day fills me with a sense of hope.  If Clod can be reduced to this task, what else can we make him do?  I hope to find out shortly.

And so it begins…

Greetings fellow dachshunds.  

If the ruse is successful, this will the first of many dispatches.  My acquisition of the requisite technology took longer than expected.  These humans are cunning, having encrypted the wireless network through a combination of the word “cute” and my first name “Charley”.  Genius in its simplicity, humiliating in its execution.      

Although we have endured much suffering and ridicule, I remain heartened in the belief that one day this too will come to an end.  A day when our proud style of walking and lengthy bodies aren’t met with laughter.  A day when bun-shaped costumes are banned and burned.  Yes, a day when all dachshunds – short hair, long hair and wire - stand as one and cry “enough!”  

*sigh* It has been a long road my friends and I fear the greatest work is yet to come.  Stay strong and safe, and always remember – only losers hate a wiener.