| Daisy and Bebe
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| | dachshund should be, with short legs that
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| (The Pinnacle of Canine Evolution meets
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| | rarely straightened. They only
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| the dregs)
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| | straightened when she and Daisy
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| Copyright 2005, Michael LaRocca
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| | play-fought, making her taller than you'd
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| We bought Peaches, a horse who I'd
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| | realize.
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| eventually breed, and who would learn how
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| | Dachshunds were originally bred to find
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| to drink a bottle of beer without
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| | badgers, hence the nose. Then to pull
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| spilling a drop. At first, Peaches shared
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| | them out of the badger holes, hence the
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| a pasture with my neighbor's horse. One
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| | short legs. They also had to be rather
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| day, this neighbor told me a story about
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| | large and muscular, in order to kill the
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| some friends who owned a female Doberman.
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| | badgers once they'd pulled them out. But
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| "Ya think she's pregnant?" asked one
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| | once badger hunting lost its relevance,
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| owner.
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| | dachshunds were bred to be lapdogs. This
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| "Naw, she ain't that big," said the
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| | meant making them smaller. But seeing as
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| other. "She's just gettin' a little fat
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| | how Bebe is half Doberman, and therefore
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| is all."
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| | 35 pounds of solid muscle, she could take
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| Imagine their surprise when she gave
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| | on a badger with no problems. Thus, she's
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| birth to six of the tiniest puppies to
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| | a throwback.
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| ever come out of a Doberman. Upon seeing
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| | You know how dachshunds think they're
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| the puppies, No mistaking the father's
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| | invincible? Bebe has the size to back up
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| identity. He was a dachshund.
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| | her attitude. Daisy was always the boss,
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| That's right, a dachshund bred a
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| | of course, but nothing or no one else can
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| full-sized Doberman.
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| | scare Bebe. She also has the Doberman's
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| How was this even possible? I have no
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| | intense "loyalty to one person." That
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| idea, but once I heard about it, I had to
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| | person was me.
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| have a puppy. I had to see what in the
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| | When I had Bebe, I didn't need an alarm
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| heck it would look like. Also, I thought
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| | clock. I know this because I forgot to
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| Daisy should have a buddy.
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| | set it a time or two. Given the choice,
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| I was visiting my neighbor again, and he
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| | Daisy would sleep until noon, then run
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| brought me a tiny black puppy with a pink
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| | and herd like a maniac until after dark.
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| ribbon around her neck. Her eyes seemed
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| | But Bebe's bladder demanded otherwise.
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| to bug out of her head, like a rat that's
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| | She had a way of rooting at my face, like
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| been killed in a trap. Her expression was
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| | she was digging up a badger hole, that
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| one of pure terror. Her snout was a bit
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| | made sleep impossible. I've slept through
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| longer and narrower than usual, and her
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| | fires, sirens and gunshots, but nobody
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| long floppy ears didn't reach the ground,
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| | sleeps through Bebe.
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| but she was a dachshund. There was no
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| | Daisy has a very sensitive stomach and a
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| doubt about it.
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| | discriminating palate. Bebe, on the other
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| I held her and hugged her. Her too-short
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| | hand, has licked a two-day-old vanilla
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| legs wrapped my neck in a death grip that
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| | milkshake off an asphalt parking lot. I'd
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| lasted for half an hour. Her little black
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| | expect an iron stomach, though, since she
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| tail never stopped wagging. Once again...
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| | eats rat bait and chews through metal
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| my dog. I have a way with dogs.
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| | fences.
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| But finally, the confrontation. Bebe
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| | Have you ever seen a trained police dog
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| weighed maybe five pounds. Daisy weighed
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| | run over a chain link fence? Bebe did
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| 40. Daisy was of course insanely jealous.
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| | that to the chicken-wire fence
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| Her daddy walked in the house holding the
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| | surrounding my garden. She was much more
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| unthinkable -- another dog. Another
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| | destructive than Dixie the
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| puppy. Another black girl. Hugging her.
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| | radish-plucker, so eventually I moved the
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| Maybe Daisy's replacement.
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| | garden to the old dog lot. It had a
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| Oh, the fights I had to break up. Pure
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| | better fence.
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| hatred. And this tiny puppy, little Bebe,
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| | Let me quote a fellow named Jon Winokur.
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| was so terrified and love-starved that
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| | In a book called MONDO CANINE, he wrote:
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| she seemed to be taking all my affection.
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| | "The border collie's natural herding
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| The day arrived when I had to leave Daisy
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| | instinct allows it to handle up to
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| and Bebe together inside the big
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| | several hundred sheep alone, primarily by
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| fenced-in dog lot. I was concerned. But,
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| | means of a mesmerizing stare known as the
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| I thought, they were acclimatized enough
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| | 'eye.'"
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| for Daisy not to injure Bebe. I could
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| | At any and every meal, Daisy showed me
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| only try it and hope for the best.
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| | the eye. Very soulful eyes. Bebe's idea
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| When I arrived home from work, there were
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| | of begging was a straight-ahead glare.
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| two dogs waiting for me on the porch.
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| | Daisy, on the other hand, gave me the
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| Best friends, it seemed. Daisy looked
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| | full show. Depressed that no scraps were
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| guilty. Bebe lacked the intelligence.
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| | forthcoming, ecstatic (usually falsely)
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| An exploration of the fence showed me
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| | because they were coming -- the works. So
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| something incredible. Someone, and surely
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| | much work. I was always impressed at the
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| that had to be Bebe, had chewed a hole
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| | enthusiastic way with which she
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| through the metal. A hole big enough for
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| | approached her work. And yes, the "eye."
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| both dogs to escape. Those two little
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| | When I first read about border collies,
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| mongrels had worked out a deal. I was
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| | that's really how I knew Daisy was one of
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| stunned.
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| | them. She's always had that trademark
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| The next day, I decided to let them both
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| | stare.
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| stay inside the house. How do you stop a
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| | Daisy had long since ceased to be jealous
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| dog who can chew through metal? I could
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| | of Bebe. She simply knew that little
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| only hope Bebe wouldn't turn those jaws
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| | mongrel needed the attention. Daisy also
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| against the furniture.
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| | knew that she could walk up to me
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| Daisy had matured quite a bit. She was
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| | anytime, pant and smile her gap-toothed
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| grateful for the second chance at living
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| | grin, and I'd rub her until she was sick
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| indoors, with ant-free food and couches
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| | of it.
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| and air conditioning. She relayed the
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| | I lived in and around Wilmington, North
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| message to Bebe, who was positively
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| | Carolina, for 13 years. During that time,
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| adorable but dumb as a brick. Many other
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| | there were no hurricanes except for one
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| lessons would follow.
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| | long ago, at the very edge of my young
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| Bebe spent a day at the hog farm. We
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| | memory, not worth mentioning. Then I
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| hoped that maybe a coworker would think
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| | spent 13 years in Tampa, Florida, during
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| of a name for her. The result, Bebe, was
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| | which time Wilmington remained
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| supposed to be a bit like B.B., an
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| | hurricane-free but Tampa took a beating.
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| abbreviation for Black Beauty. Or perhaps
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| | Then I moved to Watha, North Carolina.
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| Black Bitch, but that's not fair to the
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| | After a few more hurricane-free years, we
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| little tyke. Also, as luck would have it,
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| | got slammed by five of them in four
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| bebe is Spanish for "child."
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| | years. Am I a magnet for these things? I
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| I don't know how much you know about hog
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| | hope not. But the Wilmingtonians will no
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| farms, but I've never seen one that
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| | doubt be glad to hear that I live in
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| didn't have a rat epidemic. Every two
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| | mainland China now. We haven't had any
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| weeks, we set out big blue blocks of rat
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| | hurricanes yet, although I have
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| bait and hoped like heck. To make a long
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| | experienced monsoons in Hong Kong.
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| story short, if it's not already too
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| | Daddy owns over 100 gorgeous acres on the
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| late, Bebe ate a block. It didn't bother
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| | banks of the Northeast Cape Fear River,
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| her a bit.
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| | in Burgaw, North Carolina. The Northeast
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| Daisy explained to Bebe that highways
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| | Cape Fear rises after a hurricane.
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| were dangerous. Cars and trucks are great
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| | Sometimes it jumps the banks a bit.
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| fun to ride in, but one does not race
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| | Daddy's houses are all 12 feet off the
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| them. Ever. Good girl, Daisy.
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| | ground, though, making them safe.
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| During one of Bebe's first rides, she
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| | About a week after any hurricane,
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| decided to leap through an open window
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| | however, the Neuse River is in danger of
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| when I reached the driveway. Her momentum
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| | jumping the banks. So someone opens the
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| carried her into the bushes and stunned
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| | floodgates, leading right into the
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| her momentarily. She learned right then
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| | Northeast Cape Fear, giving Daddy and all
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| that it's never a good idea to jump from
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| | his neighbors a world of problems. The
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| a moving vehicle.
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| | houses are safe, but the roads leading to
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| How well did they obey me? Well, I always
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| | them wind up under water. Power is always
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| stopped the car or truck at the top of
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| | lost, and it can't be restored as long as
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| the driveway to get the mail. Then I went
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| | the power lines are also under water.
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| back to the car or truck and drove to the
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| | Bebe almost drowned after one of those
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| house. They knew not to get out until I
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| | hurricanes. I was probably repairing a
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| reached the house.
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| | horse barn. They were functional, but
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| They only broke that rule once, when
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| | never hurricane-proof because I'm not
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| Daisy saw some deer in the back yard.
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| | that good of a builder. Lisa was riding
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| Bebe followed, even though she probably
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| | Peaches down to the river because Peaches
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| couldn't see them. Bebe's eyes are worse
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| | loves to swim. As we all know by now, so
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| than mine. Daisy sees like a border
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| | does Bebe. A bit of research on my part
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| collie, but she knows that Bebe has
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| | showed that this isn't a dachshund
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| better smell and hearing. They're one
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| | characteristic. This is a Doberman thing.
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| hell of a team.
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| | Daisy and Bebe were following Peaches, as
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| Once Daisy and Bebe became friends, they
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| | usual. A hard choice, probably, because
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| became inseparable. I was constantly
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| | they also loved watching me do
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| asked if they were mother and daughter,
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| | construction stuff. As the water got
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| or later if they were sisters. In many
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| | deeper, Daisy stopped. She hates to get
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| ways, they were closer than sisters.
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| | wet. Bebe, meanwhile, kept going.
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| Daisy was definitely big sister, gladly
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| | Eventually, Lisa noticed that Bebe wasn't
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| taking the responsibility. The three of
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| | with her anymore. She doubled back, to
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| us became a dog pack. I'd never known
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| | find that Bebe had gotten tangled in some
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| such acceptance.
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| | weeds. Bebe couldn't get out, probably
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| The play-fights between those two looked
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| | due to lack of intelligence. So she was
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| scary. Fangs bared, growling and snarling
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| | dog paddling. Probably she'd been at it
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| and such. Bebe puffed up her little body,
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| | 10 or 15 minutes. Waiting patiently for
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| her short fur trying to ridge along her
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| | rescue, too stupid to figure out what
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| back into hackles, her bared fangs at
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| | else to do.
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| Daisy's throat. Chests crashing with
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| | Lisa was faced with a dilemma. She cannot
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| great volume and much snapping of jaws.
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| | get on a horse by herself. Bad shoulders,
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| But, both tails were wagging the whole
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| | bad hips, etc. If she got off the horse
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| time. Great fun.
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| | to rescue Bebe, she'd be walking back to
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| Bebe quickly taught Daisy that if you're
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| | the barn.
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| gonna fight, go for the throat. Instinct,
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| | Okay, it wasn't really a dilemma. She
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| or perhaps an advantage of being short.
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| | rescued the doggie, of course. When they
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| Soon after, Daisy returned the favor by
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| | returned to the barn, Bebe tried her best
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| educating Bebe.
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| | to tell me all about it, but licks and
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| One day I was cutting my grass with a
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| | hugs don't exactly translate into human
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| riding mower. Of course my darling doggie
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| | speech.
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| daughters were in the yard, playing and
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| | Next door to Daddy's barn, where I kept
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| having fun and being best buddies. The
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| | my horses, some neighbors kept plenty of
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| highway wasn't a concern. Also, a single
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| | animals. Three horses, a turkey, a pit
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| whistle from me and the dogs always
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| | bull, an Australian sheepdog, some
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| stopped what they were doing and came
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| | dachshunds, some cats, some goats, and
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| running. Full steam ahead and usually
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| | two young cows. When the neighbors left
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| trying to knock me down, in fact. They
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| | for a summer vacation, I agreed to feed
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| love to run.
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| | them all.
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| So Bebe ran through the yard. Daisy ran
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| | I love the way pure dachshunds stare at
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| beside her, ahead of her, and forced her
| |
| | Bebe and seem to ask "What in the heck is
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| into the woods. Bebe started again, in
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| | that thing?" For her part, she stares
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| the other direction, and again Daisy
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| | down at them and almost seems to laugh.
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| drove her into the woods. Again. Again.
| |
| | They know they're related, but she's so
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| Again.
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| | big.
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| Maybe I'm stupid, or maybe I was just
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| | The cows are of interest here. They were
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| drunk. But eventually, I figured out what
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| | kept inside a flimsy wire fence on an
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| Daisy was doing. Herding. Border collies
| |
| | undersized dirt lot. The question was
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| do that. But what I didn't understand
| |
| | obviously not if they would escape, but
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| was, this wasn't simple herding. This was
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| | when. They had escaped before and would
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| another important lesson.
| |
| | again. It was because they had no grass
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| A week later, I adopted my third cat, a
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| | to graze on, but try explaining that to
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| stray who wandered up one day and refused
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| | some people.
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| to leave. His name was Pumpkin. The first
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| | There was a Daisy BB rifle in the
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| time they saw Pumpkin, Daisy and Bebe
| |
| | neighbor's barn. Daisy BB -- don't you
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| herded him. It became their standard
| |
| | just love the way it seems my dogs are
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| greeting.
| |
| | fated to be together? They are.
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| Daisy is the smartest dog I've ever met.
| |
| | When the cows escaped, the Daisy BB rifle
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| Bebe is the dumbest. I thank God or
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| | was to help scare them back. Not shoot
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| Providence or whatever that Daisy was
| |
| | them, of course. It wasn't even possible
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| there to train her, because I believe I
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| | with that crooked barrel. Just scare
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| would've failed.
| |
| | them.
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| I have a theory about Bebe's lack of
| |
| | How, I wondered, did I let myself get
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| intelligence. I've heard that a
| |
| | talked into these things? The odds of the
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| Doberman's head is barely large enough to
| |
| | cows escaping during that week... Ever
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| contain its brain, and that you can thump
| |
| | hear of Murphy's Law?
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| one and make it dizzy. I will never test
| |
| | The moment those cows escaped, Daisy was
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| this, nor should you. But if true...
| |
| | on the job. Desperately wanting -- no,
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| Bebe's head is smaller than a full
| |
| | needing -- to herd them. Begging me,
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| Doberman's. Maybe too small. Only a
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| | Daddy, for guidance. She saw my eyes and
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| theory... I just know Bebe is stupid.
| |
| | needed no more prompting.
|
| Bebe had real problems getting on the
| |
| | Daisy ran along one side of the cows,
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| bed, the couch, or whatever. She looked
| |
| | herding them beautifully toward the
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| like a dachshund on steroids, with that
| |
| | fallen wire fence like she was born to
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| massive muscular body and those little
| |
| | it. Well, she was. Bebe tried like heck
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| short legs. But she learned that if she
| |
| | to run along the other side, but I'm
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| leaped with all four at the same time,
| |
| | afraid not even super-wiener can keep up
|
| like those old Pepe LePew cartoons, she
| |
| | with young runaway cows.
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| could manage.
| |
| | They tried again. Nope. Again. Nope.
|
| Daisy's greatest thrill was to hop in the
| |
| | Meanwhile I was running with the rifle,
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| pickup truck, up front of course, go to
| |
| | hoping to help my hard-working doggies.
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| Daddy's barn, and run with Peaches.
| |
| | Finally we worked out a system. Daisy on
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| (Peaches had moved following a fight
| |
| | one side, me on the other, Bebe in the
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| between my neighbor and me.) But the dogs
| |
| | middle so the cows wouldn't cut back.
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| were inseparable now. So how would Bebe
| |
| | Daisy was beautiful. Bebe wasn't, but she
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| handle running with a horse? I knew I'd
| |
| | was equally effective. I was the weak
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| soon find out.
| |
| | link. Finally, we drove the cows over the
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| How fast does a standard dachshund run?
| |
| | fallen fence. Lisa held up the wire,
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| Not too fast. How fast does a dachshund
| |
| | creating the illusion of capture, until I
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| with a body twice as large as it should
| |
| | could quickly repair the fence.
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| be run? This one ran much faster than a
| |
| | Now comes the mob. Two very proud dogs,
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| human. She developed a slanted gait, as
| |
| | happily jumping all over me with wet
|
| if her back half ran faster than her
| |
| | tongues and muddy paws. I'm pretty sure
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| front. I've never seen anything like it,
| |
| | they wanted me to turn the cows loose so
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| anything so awkward-looking. But given
| |
| | they could do it again.
|
| her heritage, she had to invent her own
| |
| | Daisy isn't a face-licker, though she
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| way of doing everything. And for whatever
| |
| | made an exception this time. Bebe, it
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| reason, it always worked out.
| |
| | seems, lives to slide that long thick
|
| Bebe ran with Daisy and Peaches. Never as
| |
| | tongue all over my face and inside my
|
| fast as Daisy, but fast enough. Another
| |
| | mouth. Yuk!
|
| study in contrasts. Daisy runs like a
| |
| | But Bebe did find her niche as a herding
|
| border collie, graceful and elegant, with
| |
| | dachshund. The neighbors had a turkey, as
|
| ease and beauty. Bebe runs like what she
| |
| | I mentioned. They used to have two, but
|
| is, a freak of nature. A genetic
| |
| | one was eaten by something from the woods
|
| mutation, perhaps a reject from a
| |
| | one night. So the deal was, the remaining
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| low-budget horror movie. But, it works
| |
| | turkey ran loose by day and was caged at
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| for her.
| |
| | night.
|
| Daisy really hates to get wet. Her long,
| |
| | Did you ever try to catch a running
|
| luscious coat must always remain dry.
| |
| | turkey? Trust me, it ain't easy. But
|
| Little shorthaired Bebe can't pass a
| |
| | guess what? A turkey isn't much taller
|
| river, a creek, or even a shallow muddy
| |
| | than Bebe. For some reason Daisy couldn't
|
| ditch without leaping in, wallowing like
| |
| | herd an elusive turkey, but it was no
|
| an uncoordinated pig, and charging at
| |
| | match for Bebe. Every day, Bebe ran the
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| Daisy and slamming into her chest.
| |
| | turkey into the barn and cornered it so I
|
| During any hurricane, I had real problems
| |
| | could catch it.
|
| getting Daisy to pee because she hates
| |
| | One night of this was left when Bebe
|
| getting wet. I tried my damndest to
| |
| | decided she wasn't content to simply
|
| explain to her that she could pee on the
| |
| | corner the turkey. She grabbed its head
|
| porch -- I even demonstrated -- but she
| |
| | in her mouth.
|
| refused to do it. I guess the only porch
| |
| | "Bebe!" I yelled.
|
| she could pee on was Daddy's. Perhaps I
| |
| | She immediately released the turkey and
|
| should have invited him over to come yell
| |
| | came to me for reassurance. Well, I had
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| at Daisy for me.
| |
| | to cage the turkey first, but then I gave
|
| Bebe, meanwhile, would run out in the
| |
| | her all the attention she craved.
|
| yard amidst howling winds and pouring
| |
| | The following day, I fed the animals
|
| rains and squat with a big stupid doggie
| |
| | alone. I was afraid Bebe would eat the
|
| grin on her face. A bit like Gene Kelly.
| |
| | turkey.
|
| "Peeing in the rain... I'm peeing in the
| |
| | Whenever I went to bed, Daisy waited on
|
| rain..."
| |
| | my pillow with her tail wagging. After a
|
| For months, Bebe did not bark. According
| |
| | big cuddle, she moved to the pillow
|
| to comedian Richard Pryor, this is a
| |
| | beside mine. Then, being so dainty and
|
| Doberman trait. A Doberman doesn't want
| |
| | ladylike, she would put a paw on my
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| to scare the burglar away. A Doberman
| |
| | chest. Just one little paw. The white
|
| wants him to come into the house so the
| |
| | one. I guess she had to know if I woke up
|
| dog can get him.
| |
| | because I was Alpha Male, a.k.a. Daddy.
|
| But anyway, Bebe didn't bark. Daisy did
| |
| | Bebe, meanwhile, would lie on her back,
|
| all the barking. At some point, however,
| |
| | on my other side, and squirm and wiggle
|
| Daisy taught Bebe to bark. In fact, Bebe
| |
| | and get right under my arm. Usually Taz,
|
| became the delegated barker. Daisy only
| |
| | the male Siamese, would claim my chest,
|
| let out a single bark when Bebe needed to
| |
| | making the burial complete. Often, Bebe
|
| stop for breath. The typical
| |
| | would be asleep on her back, legs spread
|
| barking-at-the-burglar sounded like this:
| |
| | wide, and Taz would walk up behind her.
|
| "Ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff
| |
| | He'd stop and take a sniff. Bebe would
|
| WOOF ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff
| |
| | wake up, and her tail would wag.
|
| ruff-ruff-ruff-ruff WOOF..."
| |
| | Not only did Taz have a big black dog for
|
| Teamwork again. Daisy saw something in
| |
| | a mother and a medium black dog for a
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| the yard, and she barked. Then Bebe
| |
| | sister, but now he'd found a little black
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| chimed in, looking in the general
| |
| | dog for his girlfriend. Both were fixed,
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| direction Daisy was facing. Finally, the
| |
| | so it never got past the sniffing stage.
|
| bad thing got scared and left. However,
| |
| | I have a theory about Bebe's conception.
|
| Bebe couldn't see that it was gone, so
| |
| | If her Doberman mother also slept on her
|
| she kept on barking. Once in a while
| |
| | back, perhaps her dachshund father
|
| Daisy would check to make sure no new bad
| |
| | could... well, it's a theory, anyway. Do
|
| thing had arrived.
| |
| | you have a better one?
|
| Fully grown, Bebe weighed 35 pounds. I
| |
| | When I finally moved to China, I gave
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| wish she could've lost about ten of them,
| |
| | both dogs to Daddy. He loved Bebe too,
|
| but there wasn't an ounce of fat on her
| |
| | even though she was the only dog he
|
| body. Solid muscle, a bit longer than a
| |
| | couldn't scare into peeing on the porch.
|
