Why My Dachshund Doesn't Bark (And Why the Vet Said We're Lucky)

I have never barked. Not once. Not at the mailman, not at the neighbor’s cat, not even at the garbage truck — and trust me, that truck gives me plenty of reason to try.

My humans noticed early on that something was different about me. Most dachshunds are known for being vocal — sometimes very vocal. I just look at things. I watch. I press myself against my human when something worries me. But the sound never comes.

A Trip to the Vet

When my humans realized I was truly silent, they brought me in to make sure everything was okay. Our vet, Dr. Melissa Forrester, checked me over thoroughly — vocal cords, throat, overall health — and found absolutely nothing wrong. I am a perfectly healthy dachshund. I simply choose not to bark.

Or maybe I just have nothing to say.

Dr. Forrester smiled and told my humans they were very lucky. Apparently not every dog owner gets a quiet one.

How I Communicate Instead

Just because I do not bark does not mean I am not expressive. Any dachshund owner knows the breed has a thousand ways to make their feelings known. I have my own toolkit:

• When I am nervous, I find my human and stay as close as possible — sometimes climbing right up into a lap.
• When I want attention, I stare. Intensely. For as long as it takes.
• When I am happy, my whole back end wiggles because my tail cannot contain it alone.
• When something worries me, I go very still and very alert. My humans have learned to read that look.

What Other Dachshund Owners Should Know

A dog that does not bark is not necessarily a dog that is sick or stressed. Some dogs are simply quieter than others, and dachshunds — despite their reputation — are no exception. If your dachshund has stopped barking suddenly, that is worth a vet visit. But if they have always been the quiet type, chances are good that they are just like me: perfectly fine, and letting their eyes do the talking.

My humans would not trade my silence for anything. Except maybe on Wednesdays, when that truck comes and they have to figure out what I am thinking all on their own.

I should mention one small exception. My human’s son sometimes walks into the house unannounced, and apparently that is enough to startle something out of me. I am told it is the closest thing to a bark I have ever produced — a single, soft woof, so quiet and so brief that I genuinely have no memory of it happening. My humans find this very funny. I have no comment, but I wish they would take away his key.