Dachshund Three unread messages. That is what would be sitting on your lock screen every morning if the opinionated little sausage currently burrowed under your comforter ever grew thumbs and talked her way onto your family phone plan.
Dachshunds already communicate constantly. The staring, the sighing, the single outraged bark at a shadow that moved wrong.
Texting, though, would be a completely different level of access. And honestly? We are not ready.
Here are ten messages your dachshund would absolutely send, probably in rapid succession, probably with zero punctuation and full read receipts turned on.
Before You Have Even Opened Your Eyes
1. "u up"
Sent at 5:12 a.m. Sent again at 5:13.
You are not up. You were never up. Your alarm is set for 6:40 and everyone in this house knows it except the twelve pound animal with a bladder the size of a walnut and the confidence of a landlord.
She can hear you breathing differently. That counts as awake.
By 5:16 she has escalated to voice memo, which is just forty seconds of her sighing directly into the microphone.
2. "there is a bird outside and I have opinions"
Nobody asked. Nobody will ever ask.
The bird has been on the fence for approximately nine seconds and your dachshund has already drafted a three paragraph statement, deleted it, and sent the short version instead.
Nothing that happens outside this window is minor. Everything is a threat, everything is an insult, and everything requires immediate vocal review.
That bird, by the way, has been landing on that exact fence post for two years. The outrage remains completely fresh every single time.
Texts From the Couch (Her Couch)
3. "the blanket situation is unacceptable"
Somebody folded the throw blanket. Somebody, in this house, folded it.
A folded blanket is a useless blanket. A dachshund cannot burrow into geometry.
She needs it rumpled, tunneled, slightly warm, and arranged the way she left it. The burrowing instinct in this breed goes back to badger hunting, which means the couch is not a couch to her: it is a den, and you have been redecorating without permission.
4. "who sat here"
Forensic energy. Absolute detective mode.
She can smell that your brother in law sat on the left cushion during the game on Sunday, and she has questions about why nobody told her.
The investigation involves a lot of snuffling, one deep and troubled sigh, and then twenty minutes of digging at the cushion like she is trying to reach the truth buried underneath it.
5. "am I cold or am I just like this"
Genuinely unclear, even to her.
Dachshunds shiver for roughly nine hundred different reasons: cold, excitement, mild suspicion, someone opened a bag in another room, the vacuum exists, it is Thursday.
You will never know which one it is. She will not clarify. She simply presents the tremble and waits for you to solve it with either a sweater or a piece of cheese, and either one is an acceptable answer.
The Outdoor Correspondence
6. "it’s wet out there and I want you to know I noticed"
Rain. Actual rain, falling from the sky, onto grass she is expected to walk on.
She has stepped one paw off the patio, felt the situation, and returned inside to file a complaint.
You can stand at the door holding it open for eleven minutes. She will look at you, then at the rain, then back at you, with an expression that clearly says this is a you problem now.
7. "found a hole. making it bigger. will update"
Somewhere in the yard, a tunnel project has begun.
She did not consult you. She did not consult the landscaping. There was a suspicious smell near the tomato plants and she is following it to its logical conclusion, which is China.
Digging is not a behavior problem in a dachshund. Digging is the job description. Everything else the breed does is a hobby.
Later she will come inside with dirt on her nose and act like she has been reading quietly the whole time.
Midday Check Ins You Did Not Request
8. "so I’ve been thinking about the mailman"
Here we go.
The mailman arrives daily, at roughly the same time, and leaves without incident. This has happened hundreds of times.
Your dachshund does not accept this pattern as evidence of anything. Each visit is treated as a fresh emergency requiring maximum volume from a dog who sounds like she weighs sixty pounds.
She truly believes the barking is what makes him leave. From her perspective, she is undefeated.
9. "the other dog got more. I counted."
Multi dog households know this text well.
She watched the treat distribution closely. She saw the sizes. She has calculated the ratios and something is deeply wrong with the numbers.
It does not matter that the pieces were identical. It does not matter that you split them carefully in front of her. Jealousy in a dachshund is not about fairness, it is about principle.
The follow up text is just the word "wow" and nothing else.
Late Night Transmissions
10. "come to bed. bring yourself. hurry."
It is 9:40 p.m. and she has already gone to the bedroom without you, which is a bold move for someone who cannot turn on the lamp.
She is under the covers. She is already warm. She is texting you from a nest she built out of your own comforter and she wants to know what is taking so long.
There is no snooze on this one. A dachshund who has decided it is bedtime has decided it for the entire household, and negotiating is not on the table.
The Group Chat You Never Agreed To Join
Give one of these dogs a phone and she will absolutely start a group chat, add the neighbor’s dog, add your mom, and never let anyone leave.
The chat name will be something like "important updates." The updates will be photos of the same tennis ball from slightly different angles.
She will post at 3 a.m. She will double text. She will react to her own messages with the little heart, which is somehow the most dachshund behavior of all.
A dachshund does not want a conversation. A dachshund wants an audience, a warm blanket, and confirmation that you are thinking about her right now.
And here is the part that gets you: every single one of those messages would be sincere.
She would not be exaggerating about the bird. She would not be dramatizing the blanket. In her mind these are urgent, well documented reports from a highly qualified professional who has been guarding this house for free, for years, with no benefits package.
The typos would be aggressive. The timing would be terrible.
You would read every one of them anyway, probably out loud, probably laughing, probably while she watched your face for a reaction with those ridiculous eyes.
Then she would send one more, just as you set the phone down.
"u up"