The Adventures of Long Dog D'Silvo

By Lori Feldberg

Don’t call Long Dog a wiener dog—he gets very upset! Equally upsetting for the Dachshund are his too-long ears, but sometimes they come in handy—as pontoons to help him swim and for “telescoping” up or around corners to eavesdrop on troublemakers.

This underdog certainly has a nose for trouble, leading the Doggie Gang into conquering dognapping rings, thwarting jewelry heists, and saving lives, both human and animal.

The yacht dogs travelling the east coast—a St. Bernard, Chihuahua, Sealyham Terrier, and even two snobby black Newfoundlands—come to view him as their heroic leader, as do Long Dog’s people, the D’Silvo family.

“Anyone who claims that a diminutive little breed like the Dachshund could never display heroic qualities hasn’t read about the adventures and exploits of Long Dog and his Doggie Gang. Young readers will love the underdog who becomes hero to both man and beast!”

—Janet Matthews, co-author,

Chicken Soup for the Canadian Soul, Chicken Soup for the Soul O Canada: The Wonders of Winter, and Chicken Soup for the Soul: Christmas in Canada

• Language: English
• Publisher: Word Alive Press
• Release date: Jan 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781486609048

Book preview

1.

Long Dog Chooses a Boy

He needed a bath. He really needed a bath. So did his litter mates and many of the other dogs sheltered at the back of the pet shop. The young Dachshund finally put an end to the itch on his belly, got up and shook himself.

Look sharp. Humans coming, he barked in Dog Talk while he wagged his tail with enthusiastic invitation. A young couple paused only briefly while his sisters continued to wrestle and growl. You two are no help!

The door from the pet shop opened, and the pup watched as a family of four began making their way down the line of pens opposite the Dachshunds.

Then a dark-haired boy of ten or eleven, in a striped T-shirt, worn jeans and a faded baseball cap, bounced into view. He reached a pudgy hand into the first pen. Aren’t they cute, Dad?

The father, dressed in whites, followed the boy, saying, Collies aren’t much good on a yacht, Peter. We want a dog that can swim, remember.

Peter jumped up to look into the next pen. The humans slowly came down the line, the boy’s father dismissing each puppy Peter chose. The pup saw that one of the boy’s sneakers was undone and his hands were dirty. This was his kind of boy!

Anything promising? one of the pup’s sisters asked with a loud yawn. They flopped down beside him.

His long ears made slapping noises against his head as he shook it. Nah. The dad and his son are looking for a dog that can swim. I don’t think we’d be very good at that. He padded away from the front of the pen, sat down and tackled the itch on his belly again.

Oh, look at these funny looking dogs, Daddy. They’re long with stubby little legs! The pup recognized one of the children who had come in with his parents earlier. Wiener dogs, that’s what they are! We don’t want a wiener dog.

The pup growled, hair bristling even on his ears.

Not friendly either, the mother said, and herded her family away.

They do have short legs, the boy named Peter said as he arrived at their pen. He scrunched down to their level, but he didn’t laugh at them.

The pup stayed right where he was while his sisters begged to be petted. Besides, an itch at the base of his tail claimed his attention. He fell over with the effort to bite at the hungry flea.

They’re Dachshunds, Peter. Some people call them wiener dogs because they’re so long, and you can barely tell they have legs.

The pup lurched to his feet at the insult, ears bristling high once more. What do you think I’m standing on, mister? he growled.

It isn’t nice to call them names, Peter said, coming to their defense.

He liked this kid with the hair that poked carelessly through the back of his cap and bobbed as he moved. But the pair moved on. The pup ambled over and put his snout to the wire. The kid smelled good, like an active little boy who’d just eaten a hamburger. He cocked an ear to listen as they checked out the other pens. It seemed like Peter wasn’t too excited with any of the dogs his dad picked out.

Can’t all dogs swim, Dad?

Probably, came the answer. But some are born to it. Water is natural to them.

Clump. Clump. Clump. The slow thud of heavy boots, plus a lighter skip, revealed they were coming back!

Turning, the pup asked his sisters, Hey, can we swim?

Dunno.

Can Dachshunds swim, Dad? Peter asked the very same question as they stopped outside their pen again.

This time he waved his tail to show that he was friendly and yipped, Yeah, I’d like to know that too. He stepped into the water bowl to show them he’d be willing to try. He hastily backed out, though, as the water sloshed onto the floor.

Maybe not, the man said. Legs too short, middle sags as they get older too.

Bet I could swim fine. Just gimme a chance, mister! He went to the wire and climbed up so that the boy could see that his legs weren’t so short and his belly had no sag in it at all.

He looked into Peter’s eyes—they were the same rich brown color as his own fur—and yipped, Come on boy, gimme a chance. We’d make a great team, you and me.

I like this one, Dad. Can we take him, please?

He’s not the dog for a yacht, Peter. With those short legs he probably couldn’t even jump on board. Then there are the steps inside. He shook his head. Come pick a Retriever or a Lab.

The pup didn’t let his tail slow down for an instant. Think positive. Think positive, he repeated over and over to himself. The kid wants me. Let’s do it, boy! he barked eagerly. The pup wished the boy could talk Dog, but maybe Peter would understand how willing he was to go to a new home anyway.

Peter shook his head stubbornly at his father. I want this one, Dad. I’ll help him with boarding, and I’ll lift him up the stairs till he’s big enough to do it himself.

The pup pushed away from the wire and chased his tail—kids liked that. Then he rolled over, legs paddling the air while his tongue hung upside down. He pulled it in and gave the boy a toothy smile and an excited moan.

Shouldn’t you be trying to convince the father? one of his sisters suggested.

Oh, yeah. Right. The pup wiggled closer to the man dressed in white, and thumped his tail on the floor. Hey, mister, your boy couldn’t get a better friend. I’ll learn to swim, even if I’m not a water dog. Just you wait and see.

Pleeeease, Dad. I don’t want any other dog.

He’ll probably fall overboard and drown right away, then you’ll realize you have to get a proper dog, the man grumbled, but he reached in and plucked the pup up by the scruff of his neck, dropping him into the eager boy’s arms.

The pup wiggled with pleasure as he licked the boy’s face. He was going to a new home! He’d win the kid’s father over