pawName Index






Katrinka (Trinka) Valkyrie - 1976, 9 years

Dear Trinka, You were our first precious dachshund; you were the epitome of being regal and were such a lady; you were my second soul mate and when I lost you I couldn't get a pal for Heidi; I have missed you tons since you went to Rainbow Bridge.



Crook - October 1976, 6 years old

A beautiful black-and-tan little boy with a bend (a 'crook') in his tail! I got you when I was in the military and brought you home to my mom and Freda. You were tormented by who-knows-what and were never able to accept the love of those who cared about you and tried so very hard to gain your trust. You went to Rainbow Bridge at the much-too-young age of 6. It broke my heart, but I know that you are no longer haunted by the demons which brought you such fear that you felt that you had to lash out at everyone who came near. I can't wait to see you again - happy, tail wagging - no more fear.



Sophie - 1977, 11 years


SOPHIE.JPG
6.8 K

Sophie was a great ballplayer. She played ball every one of her too brief days on this earth. She taught me a lot, but saved her best lesson for the last. Sophie died in November, 1977, during emergency back surgery. I had never believed in any Higher Power, but when I picked up that shrunken little shell from the vet's office, I knew it was no longer Sophie. It was a vessel Sophie was through using, and the Sophie I knew and loved was chasing her ball somewhere, waiting for me to catch up.

It has been 20 years since that sad day, and I don't think a day has passed that I have not thought of her. I still know she is waiting for me, and now I know where - at the Bridge. My human children are grown men whom I love very much, but deep in my heart, my first-born child is a black-and-tan dachshund with a sassy strut to her walk, an 'I dare you' look on her beautiful face, wearing a turquoise collar and always carrying her favorite red rubber ball in her mouth.


I love you, Sophie.




Tennie-Weenie - 1977, 6 years old

Teenie, you were a surprise Christmas gift in 1971 and you became 'my baby'. You were such a smart and feisty little girl and showed no fear of anything. You were slow to warm up to strangers but once they threw your ball for you a few times they were your friend for life. Because you were so active it eventually caused a disk rupture in your back and paralysis of the hind legs. Following surgery and extensive therapy, you did walk and play again - a testimony to your determined spirit. Later, I hoped you would somehow understand why I felt I could not take you with me - I thought I did what was best for you at the time. I will always grieve your loss and one day we will see each other again and have a great reunion. I keep you deep in my heart always. Karen


Sad Sack - October 1977, 9 years old

Sad Sack was born to my female dachshund, Heidi in 1968. He was so scrawny and sad that my mother called him SadSack, and I let it ride. He was a beautiful red dachsie and so full of love. When I had my first child, he thought she belonged to him and would not let anyone but me pick her up. She would follow him all over the house when she was older and SadSack didn't seem to mind. He was so sweet that everyone loved him. I miss him so much. I now have two more dachshunds, but no one will ever be my baby, SadSack, I can't wait to see him again and to get all the doggie hugs and kisses that he was so good at. I miss you my baby.


Mini (Cantab Russet MinMin) - 1977, 8 years old





Gussie (Lady Augusta Krane-Achs-Yamner) - June 1978, 11 years, 10 months old

To this day we still talk about & miss your little antics. Not only did you reek of Grandpa's cigars-you looked like one as well!

Love always, Cheryl Jay & Gladys (Mommie)



Heidi R. - June 1978, 10 years old

My Dad brought Heidi home to our family when my sister and I were about five and three. Heidi liked to sleep in our beds at the bottom by our feet. My sister Elizabeth and I took turns every night. She was a wonderful dog and loved so much! Heidi drowned and a part of us was gone. She lives in our hearts and our memories forever.



Chipper - July 1978, 13 years old

To Chipper, my first dog. The pain of your loss is still as fresh as it was 20 years ago. Rest peacefully, dear friend.


Grendel Taylor - July 1978, 12 years old


Such a name, so unlike the Grendel of that legend, lurking in my subconscious for years! You were my very first, so young when you came to me, that you shouldn't have lived at all, but you did live! A very independent little person you became, thank you very much! How I mourned that year without you, but I would not subject you to the six months quarantine that would have been required if I had taken you with me when I married. I loved you too much even to consider it! You were so loved where you were. Your grandparents doted on you. 'Who are you?' you asked, when I returned, but you forgave me, because above all else, you had such a loving heart.



Ricky 1 Craig - August 1978, 9 years old

Ricky1 was my first little dachsie. I got him when he was three weeks old and what a start. Even when I went away to boarding school his heart and soul belonged to me - we had a tie even then. We have so many memories, don't we Ric? Remember the time you cornered that tiger snake, or the time you were baited but survived? Remember coming everywhere with me, even when I was a teenager going out on a date? If he didn't like you, well, I didn't like him. Remember how you were so protective of me that no one, not even my Mum, was allowed in my bedroom when you were in there with me? Everyone in town referred to me as the blonde with the little black sausage. They knew that to love me they had to love you, which wasn't hard. Ricky, all these years have gone by and yet we still talk about you. My love for you hasn't ceased but grown. What a grand reunion we will have when we meet again. I hope that at the Rainbow Bridge you are giving some lucky girl as much joy as you gave me, but remember, you belong to me and when I come up there with you, that is the way I want it to be. See you one day my beautiful Rick.


Lady Elfr - October 1978, 3 years old

In memory of Lady Elfr, taken from her yard on Halloween,1978
Lady, you were the sweetest, smartest dog in the world. When you were taken from us, from your very home, we tried so hard to find you. I hope that whoever took you cared for you and loved you as much as we did. I still dream of finding you, although I know that's impossible. I always swore that I would have another dachshund one day who I would call Lady in memory of you and now I do. I know that I will see you again one day sweet girl. I love you.



Boldji - 1980, 12 years

My Bo, I miss you every day. You and I shared all of the good and bad times. I'll never forget the last morning you were with me - Every day before going to school I always gave you hugs and kisses. That last day you weren't feeling so good, but you managed to jump up, put your paws against my chest and kiss me. You knew that would be our last moment together. My heart still aches when I think of you and I know someday that we'll meet again. I miss you and love you always.



Schatzie - 1979, 15 years, 6 months old

Sweet little Schatzie, still very fresh a memory in my heart. You brought joy and love to our family for two generations. When our basset, Lady Agnes, died, my brother then aged 13 or so was promised another. No basset litters appeared in the paper for a while, but then my father had a bright idea. He said to my brother, now a man of 47, 'let's go take a look at dachshund pups.' John said NO very firmly. Aggie had been close to him since he was a toddler, and it was a basset he wanted. My father promised they would just look - no obligation or pressure involved. A very grudging ok. A couple of hours later - I was home at the time to see it all - the front door opened and in stepped my brother, with a wiggly brown little gal in his arms! He put her on the floor so everyone could pet her. Her first act was to soil the carpet! We all laughed and loved the dainty little puppy.

Schatzie you were so clever. You'd dance quite a jig in circles on your hind legs for a treat! Your intuition was A-one! My sister and I were college age and when we would have a new boyfriend over for the first time, Schatzie, you'd bark growl, sometime even nip at a hand too quickly offered to you in friendship. You'd greet warmly and even allow the chosen few to hold you on their laps. Connie, my sister, and I agreed your initial judgements usually were an excellent harbinger of the future to come. We took you to the breeder as we wanted to have a litter of your pups, You were returned with the apology that the attempted mating was unsuccessful. Because we had waited until you were six, the breeder thought it was too late and not to retry. Later we noticed you were gaining weight so you were put on a strict diet. You gained again. A visit to the vet proved you were pregnant. Sorry, sweetie, full rations and extra treats out of guilt for starving an expectant mother. You puppy, just one, a black-and-tan boy, was, tagically, dead the next morning. You gave brith quietly in the middle of the night to the huge single pup, was he breech? Could my brother have done anything If he'd been there? You had your reasons to sneek to the basement laundry room to make a private nest. You were still frantically licking him to breath when John found you. No more attempted breedings after the tragedy. Years passed and as a married woman I'd come to your house with my own baby daughter, you so delighted Hilary that her first word wasn't mama or dada it was Schatzie! (pronounced sawtsee) Decades later, between me and my own adult kids, there are and have been a total of seven weenies, thanks to you! I told Porky to look for you at the Rainbow Bridge, I'm sure you're teaching her a trick or two. Love always, You entire extended family


Brandy Lynch - June 1979, 17 years old

Brandy...you were my very first dog...I was only three when we got you and Mom says you followed me everywhere. She has old home movies of us playing in my wading pool, playing with a big beach ball. She says you thought you were my Mommy. I remember when they brought home my baby sister...you and I didn't like her very much did we? She turned out to be pretty cool after all. I will never forget the day I came home from vacation Bible school, and I could tell Mama had been crying. I could not figure out why I couldn't go out to the back yard that evening...then she told me that Pepa was having to bury you.I felt so bad...you were out there all alone that afternoon, I was too busy to come outside and play. You looked so lonely when my friends and I left to go to Bible school. I didn't know that you'd already gone to the Bridge at that time. I cried so long....you were always a sweet girl. I hope you'll take care of Sydney and Lucy 'till we get there. We have owned lots of doxies since you left. Between mama and Beverly and me, we have eight now, and we'll be getting another this month for Holly since she lost Sydney. You taught us a lot about how special a breed dachsies are. Thank you for being patient with me when I was a baby. I know I kept you busy. I still love you!!!!!
Always....Trish (Sisser)


Sandy - September 1979, 8 years old




Baroness von Gretchen XV Johns - 1980, 12 years old

I got Gretchen when I was eight years old. She was a standard black-and-tan smooth hair - a pretty big dachshund. I'd waited my whole life for her. In the end she lived longer than my mother by four years. I found Gretchen in her bed, the bed she'd had all her life, still with one side of the wicker basket chewed from when she was a puppy. She was my mama's dog and loved to lie by her in the black leather chair. She died of kidney failure and is buried in the back yard behind the oleander bush.

Gretchen was a typical dachshund in that she loved to bark and always wanted the last word. I found this site in April while looking for a dachshund stuffed animal for my daughter, who loves her one-year-old dachshund, Coco Puff, dearly. I will always remember my dear Gretchen. She was missed by my father, now deceased (1998), my sister, and her buddy Tiger (part chihuahua, went to the Bridge at 15 in 1984).

I know how lucky I am to now be the mother and have Coco Puff and her one-year-old buddy, Maggie, (a rescue beagle). My husband is a dachshund person, too, and had a smooth-coat named Gus who he loved just as dearly. There was little question as to what type of dog we would get for our daughter and I hope sincerely that the day is far when I will leave her at the Bridge to wait with Gretchen and Tiger and Gus. I guess she is with my mother now and they would both be happy to be together.


Fritzi Shepherd - February 1981, 13 years old

Dear Fritzi,

Although you have been gone 19 years now, it seems like only yesterday. I'm finding it very difficult to type this, as I am crying, and wishing I could once again hold you in my arms and feel your breath. I will have to hold that wish until we meet again. Thank you Fritzi for your unconditional love, and for giving us many wonderful, priceless memories. We love you!



Willy - 1982, 7 years old, and

Snoopy - 1982, 14 years old

To the two wiener dogs I spent the early years of my life with - we all miss you and think of you often. Willy, even though you didn't like me much (I was the new baby that intruded into his domain), I still think back fondly on all of the playful rounds of tug-o-war that we had. Snoopy, even though you lived with my Grandma, you will always live in my heart. I wish that both of you could be here to help us raise our new wiener, Wembley, as well as you were raised.


Honey - November 1980, 14 years old

I am an actress and once did a movement piece based on the elegance Honey exuded. She had such class. I'll never forgive myself, as a girl, having a toy sale so that I could buy a new puppy. She was everything I ever needed and more, but I didn't realise that until she was gone. I promise to make it up to her in heaven. I hope she can forgive me for pulling her ears. I'll akways miss her soft soft ears.



Tuffy - November 1980, 13 years old

Tuffy was the only child of my husband and his first wife. He got custody and they were inseparable. Tuffy trained me well. He did have back problems but was NEVER overweight. The end came quickly and it was a sad rainy day when his owner, Tom, had him put down. We took him home and make a waterproof wooden box and put his quilt and red ball in there with him and cried a river. I never loved an animal before. He was a member of my family. It would be many years later when we were married and had small children when I would announce that I wanted a red female. She's her own person. But Tuffy's spot in the yard is a special place and Tom has continued to live there now for nearly 30 years. I hope everyone who owns a doxie will have the same wonderful experiences with theirs. In memory of Tuffy for Tom Findley and Suzan



Grete Anneliese - May 1982, 13 years old

It has been 18 years and you are still in my heart and soul. I still miss you, Grete girl.


Thunder - June 1982, 12 years old

In you resided the soul of our marriage and the spirit of the early love between us. You were the guardian angel as we rocketed through the 70s, and when our children cam along, you peacefully yielded that spirit to them. Now that they begin to leave, I miss you even more, and think of you often.



Squeak - 1982, 14 years

At the Bridge with the other dachsie angels. Play hard and be happy until we meet again.



Hans - 1982 12 years old


Hans. Just writing your name brings tears to my eyes. I loved you so much, my little boy. So many memories. Too many memories to be able to talk about here. And so I have created a special web site with the entire sad story of my Skinny Little Hans which can be reached through this hyperlink for you. Hans, you were *so* important to me. You were all I had through the worst years of my life. I could hug you and hold you and you kissed away my tears. I wish I could have protected you more. I wish I could have been there when you died or even could have ever seen your grave .I pray you are happy somewhere now. I still miss you even after all these years. My sweet gentle little boy.


Heidi - August 1982, 11 years old

Heidi was my very first dachsie and was my best friend from the time I was born until she passed away eight years later. I'll never forget her.


Ginger - October 1982, 22 years

Ginger was the epitomy of dachshund independence, courage, and love. She knew she was the Boss but was willing to teach any new dogs her old tricks. Mom told me that Ginger stopped in their bedroom to say "good-bye" before she curled up in her own bed. She quietly drifted to Rainbow Bridge after living a very satisfying life. She was buried in the "cat cemetery" after having outsmarted and outlived most of them.



Sugar - 1982, 12 years old

Sugar, I still miss you so much. When my first dachshund, Candy, died when I was 14 years old, my mother would not let me get another dog because she had become so attached to you to. I went on and on wanting another dog because I was an only child. It was not to be. When I was 22 years old, I married. The first week my husband fulfilled my dream by getting you for me. You were such a sweet baby!



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