My Doggie DNA: The Story of Moose the Deaf Double Dapple Dachshund
When I adopted Moose, the little white Dachshund puppy, I made three promises. I would love him and care for him; I would return him to the All Texas Dachshund Rescue if things didn’t work out; and I would cut his balls off.
There would be no future Mooses. Meese. Moose. No mas Moose. Like many of the puppies in his litter, Moose was born deaf due to a recessive genetic disorder. At least one of the puppies was deaf and blind. There is a high risk that Moose could transmit this recessive gene problem to his offspring, so Moose is forbidden from procreation. It’s in my adoption contract, and the Rescue group can take him back if I don’t follow through.
It won’t be a problem. I followed through this week. It’s fascinating, for all of the supposed importance of the male genitalia, the phallocentricism that dominates a certain species of thinking, little guys can be surprisingly forgiving when you start snipping at their junk. I bore witness to my son’s briss. You can’t unsee that sort of thing. However, a few minutes after it was over, my kid was sweet and forgiving. He barely seemed to care or notice that we’d taken a tidbit.
Same with the puppy. He took out his castration anger on the e-collar cone-of-shame wrapped around his neck, but not on me. He licked wantonly at his deflated scrotum for a little while. Then he peed on the carpet, which may have been a form of retribution or it may have been Dachshund stubbornness.
Except, maybe he’s not a Dachshund? He should be a Dachshund. I adopted him from All Texas DACHSHUND Rescue, but they rescue and foster dogs from other shelters. His deafness is a trait of breeding two dapple (or “merle”) colored Dachshunds together. This pairing always results in a dog with much more white in the coat than normal, along with deafness and blindness. A puppy or two from the litter may be born with no defect. That puppy is sold at a much higher premium, and the rest of the litter is abandoned.
That’s how I got my Moose! The strange genetic mix is called a Double Dapple. I hadn’t completely decided on getting a puppy, but his photo came through my inbox and I couldn’t resist him. I had recently left a job with too much travel, so I wanted to spend more time at home. I thought the challenge of a deaf puppy would be interesting and not beyond my capabilities. I’ve been learning ASL signs to communicate with him. Today was the first time I was certain he understood the “Walk” sign. He still peed on the carpet yesterday, but today he knew when I was telling him it was time to walk.
Moose doesn’t look exactly like a Dachshund. He is long and low, with big paddle-paws and a bow-legged stance on stumpy little front legs. Total Doxie. But he never quite grew the Doxie Schnoz. His ears are a bit shorter than most Dachshunds’. His coat is a bit thicker and more full, with bunching around his neck. Dachshunds are either smooth or silky or wiry, and they don’t bunch much. When they get big they look like overstuffed sausages.
At the dog park, people love to guess. Men guess more than women, and men are more often wrong. Almost nobody guesses Dachshund, mostly because Moose is white with pale brown splotches, and it’s not a Doxie pattern people have seen. People guess Beagle, or Terrier, or even Corgi/Retriever mix. I would correct them and explain that he was a Dachshund-mix, and sometimes I’d go into the genetics but that’s kind of an awkward conversation to have at the dog park so usually I skip it.
People get mad when I tell them they’re wrong. They argue. Not heated, just a little perturbed. People want to understand your dog. They hate when you don’t know. We have plenty of pure breeds at our dog parks, and some of those dogs cost thousands of dollars. The dude with the English Great Dane and the woman with the Pharoah Hound want to know where you got such a cute puppy.
I’ve been asked if I would breed him. I’ve been asked if I would sell him, or if I knew where his litter-mates might be. Creepy as shit. I’m hoping the breeding questions will end now that he’s got no coal in the stocking.
Still, I’ve been curious about his breed myself, so I finally splurged on a DNA test. I went for the most expensive of the under-$100 dog-breed tests. It was the Mars Wisdom Panel. Disclosure, like ten years ago or more my ex-wife worked for Mars. They seemed to know their shit.
I swabbed Moose’s cheeks. I sent in the test and waited less than 2 weeks. The results came in an email. I click. I’m shocked. Stunned. Flabbergasted.
Moose is …
Moose is a Chihuahua.
He’s 50% Chihuahua. He’s 25% Dachshund and 25% Poodle. He’s as much a freaking Poodle as he is a Dachshund. Most of all, he’s a Chihuahua. A big, long, low, deaf, adorable Chihuahua. A Chiweenie Poo.
I don’t know how to feel, except that I look at him differently. It’s not that I like him less, quite the contrary. Now that I can see his breed in his face I feel like I understand his expressions better. I feel closer to him now that I know his ancestry. Dog breeds are quite deliberately created to espouse specific personality traits and physical characteristics, so there is real utility in understanding the breed.
If anyone at the dog park asks, I tell them he’s a Dachshund. A Dachshund-mix.
Philip Berne is a writer about culture and technology currently living near Dallas. Moose is a puppy. https://www.instagram.com/signsofmoose/
