I’m not making this up; my dog really did eat my car!

Twist of Fate, called just Twist, is a three-year-old mini Dachshund; he and his sister, Vienna, (we call her the Twisted Sister) are the youngest of our pack of 12 Dachshunds. We named Twist because we never intended to acquire him at all. It was Vienna my husband and I waited for and loved even before she was born. When she was two months old, my husband brought her home and I melted completely; she was a beautiful brindle-colored little bundle with huge dark eyes and an “I’m a perfect little diva” expression on her wrinkled face. With quiver in his voice, my husband said that there was one more puppy in the litter that didn’t have a home and was all by himself. He cried pitifully when Vienna was taken away, said my “Immortal Beloved.” I knew what he wanted; Vienna was mine and he wanted a puppy of his own. What else could I say but, “Bring the little dog home.” So it was a Twist of Fate that we adopted our youngest male, to the delight of Vienna and their other older siblings, Jack, Black Pearl, and Finn. And from the instant we saw little Twist with his floppy ears and hound-dog eyes, we adored this youngster who slept at night in the crook of my arm.

Until he grew up and ate my car. Like all dogs, Twist loves car rides. Sometimes, just for fun, I’ll load a few dogs into my Jeep and we’ll hit main street to do some shopping. I always treat us to lunch at the drive through, where they hang their heads out the window in anticipation of the fries they know I’ll toss them. All the Dachsies have special car riding antics. Pearl changes the radio station, Finn honks the horn, Jack rolls the windows up and down, and Vienna turns the windshield wipers on and off. Doesn’t matter if I’m in the car or not; this bunch has just got to do their car-ride routine.

Twist is an auto demolition expert. If left alone in the car, he goes on the attack! He ate my seatbelts, he chewed up the carpet in the back cargo area, he ate my floor mats, and he ate the carpet on the driver’s side floor, exposing the wiring underneath. Twist is just a master chomper. You know those dog toys that are advertised as being indestructible? It took Twist under an hour to shred it to pieces. We give him beef knuckle bones and they slow him down a little, but sooner or later everything falls to this “jaws” of the dog world.

Anyway, oblivious to the damage to the driver’s side wiring, I drove to a doctor’s appointment without, for once, any Dachshund ride-alongs. No worries until afterwards when I backed out of the lot to head for home. And my car went completely dead right in the middle of the busy road! After I had it towed to a repair shop and the technician took a look around my Jeep, he called me over and showed me the exposed wires that were now frazzled from being scraped by my winter boots for several weeks. Sighing, I called my husband and told him to come and get me because Twist ate the Jeep.

Twist now isn’t allowed to be unsupervised in the car. He gets left behind a lot and it hurts me because he doesn’t understand why. So if I have a quick errand like picking up the dry cleaning, Twist still gets to go on ride-alongs. A few weeks ago, Twist was diagnosed with a difficult auto-immune disorder called pemphigus. In sympathy for my beloved little fella, I bought him a cute, snuggly dog bed. He ate it.