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Staff dachshund Flash, being a purebred, had his name bestowed upon him by his breeder. It was not a particularly apt name, as staff dachshund Otto could run circles around the slow-moving Flash. His full name, Jumpin' Jack Flash, did not make things more accurate, as Otto could also jump circles around him (if that's the correct way to put it).
Still, Flash's first forever home, which he came to as a puppy, had many trees and many squirrels, and he delighted in spending hours and hours tracking squirrels and trying to catch them. The squirrels were largely clever enough to stay way up in the trees, and so way out of reach of those short legs. Still, if they came down to ground level, they would get chased (though never caught). That's hardwired into the breed, and somehow Flash got endowed with a double helping of that particular instinct.
Also hardwired into the breed is a strong independent streak, and Flash was endowed with a double helping of that, too. His original human, Bob, signed him up for obedience school, as Bob had done for all of his dogs. If the woman leading the class is to be believed—and why would she lie about a thing like this?—Flash was the only dog ever to flunk out. They did let him walk in the graduation ceremony, but he didn't get a diploma.
Flash and Otto came to know each other when they were both about 9 months old, which is around the time dog park trips can commence. It was Bob who took notice of another black-and-tan dachshund puppy of similar age (Otto was born on December 21, 2010; Flash just 4 days later on December 25). So, Bob introduced himself, and became a close friend. Flash and Otto quickly became close, as well, not the least because Bob became Otto's designated dog-sitter on teaching days.
Flash and Otto were soon a well-known pair at the dog park. On Halloween, for example, all the dogs at the dog park are in costume, and Otto and Flash would usually go as Batman and Superman:
That's Otto on the left, Flash on the right.
All of this is not to say that the two dogs were alike, because that most certainly was not the case. Dozens and dozens of visitors, vets, people at the dog park, etc. all made variations of this comment: "Wow! They have such different personalities!" Otto always liked to play with other dogs; Flash not so much. Otto loves himself a good dog toy, for Flash a good dog treat would be much preferable. Otto very clever, Flash very tough. On walks, Otto was the navigator, Flash the security.
One story, among many. Several years ago, Otto was chewing on a nice beef bone that Flash wanted. Otto briefly put it down to get a drink of water, and Flash snatched it out from under him and started gnawing away. Otto was never going to challenge Flash directly, but after a few minutes of considering the situation, he suddenly ran to the front door and started barking loudly. Always interested in intimidating a bad guy/gal/dog, Flash dropped the bone and ran over to join in on the barking. At that point, while Flash kept barking at the phantom that Otto had conjured up, Otto peeled off, ran over to and grabbed the bone, and disappeared into the bedroom.
Bob died, suddenly and unexpectedly, in October of 2020. That is when Flash moved on to his second forever home. Over the nearly 10 years that Bob served as dog-sitter, Otto spent thousands and thousands of hours at Flash's home. And then, Flash came to live in Otto's home. Though so different in personality, the dogs knew each other so very well, they got on splendidly. That said, when it was feeding time, the bowls had to be put in different rooms to forestall any food-stealing shenanigans.
It's different for smaller and larger dogs, but by the time Flash made the move, he was either in his senior years, or right on the cusp of them. And as time went on, well... time is undefeated. He was once terrified of Fourth of July fireworks, but the ones in 2024 didn't bother him at all. Turns out, his hearing was failing him. Similarly, his vision began to fade, too. Oh, and he slept a lot, even by dachshund standards. Most of that sleeping was on a bed, underneath the desk from which this blog is written. Anything from the last 5 years that's signed with a (Z), there's a 99% chance that Flash was just 2 feet away while it was being produced.
It was a good thing that Flash slept so much, though. As he slowed, as his eyes weakened, as his hearing went away, his dreams were the only place he could once again track squirrels. And they were the only place where he could once again be with Bob, whom Flash loved dearly.
As readers have undoubtedly guessed by now, as of Tuesday morning, Flash sleeps forever. He had a long and happy life, and that realization is a source of freudenfreude, even at a sad time. If the universe is a just place, in even the smallest way, then right now he is with Bob again, and he has a nice, big field full of squirrels to track, and a nice, big bowl of steak to replenish himself with at the end of the day.
Good-bye, Flash. You were a good dog.
Have a good weekend, all and, if you have a moment, think a good thought for Mr. Flash. (Z)