Mrs. Frida Vodegel, who helps her husband run a dachshund kennel in North Hackensack, N. J., did not notice a pile of fresh meat, tied in neat little rolls, lying just inside their fence one morning last week. But the 15 pure-bred dachshunds which she let out for an airing soon scented it. Scurrying on their stubby, crooked legs, they tumbled and fought in their eagerness to snap up the juicy morsels.
Few minutes later Mrs. Vodegel heard agonized whines, rushed out to find the dogs writhing in convulsions. Before a veterinarian could arrive, eleven dachshunds valued at $6,500 lay dead of strychnine poisoning. Two died later in a pet hospital.
Among the dead was Sieger (Champion) Lenz-Assmannsheim, undefeated three-time champion of Germany. Imported from Leipzig seven weeks ago, he was entered for the Maryland Kennel Club show last week, the great Westminster show next week. Also dead was Parmenio Ditmarsia, champion of Belgium, Holland and Switzerland, entered for the same shows.
Bitterly the dogs' owners accused a rival exhibitor (unnamed) of the poisoning. Calling dog shows "a filthy racket," Mrs. Joseph J. O'Donohue III, part owner of Lenz, declared she would never again exhibit. She had received anonymous letters threatening that the dog would never compete in this winter's shows. There has been bitter dissension lately among members of the Dachshund Club of America.
Fanciers reluctantly admit that, though not so common as in former years, foul play is occasionally employed by ambitious or jealous dog exhibitors. Few years ago one tried to keep a rival from handling her dogs in the judging ring by sending a telegram falsely announcing her son's death.
Dog poisoning is a felony in New Jersey. Last week clues led police toward New York City. Said Investigator Walter J. Baker: "So far as we are concerned, it is the same as a murder case."
Into a four-foot trench by the Vodegel's hunting lodge in the Sussex Hills last week were lowered eight small, flower-covered boxes. As the first shovelful of dirt fell down upon them, Frederick Vodegel fired three volleys from his shotgun. That, he explained, was the German farewell salute to noted hunting dogs. On a boulder by the grave will be chiseled the 13 dachshunds' names, above them the word: MURDERED.
U. S. citizens who have not thought much about dachshunds since War days were startled to read that Lenz-Assmannsheim cost $1,500. In 1918 most people in the U. S. would not have taken a dachshund as a gift. Grotesquely squat and sausage-like, the dog made an apt symbol for propagandizing cartoonists. Furtively clinging to its pets, the Dachshund Club changed its name to "The Badger Dog Club."
Somewhat more slowly than sauerkraut and Wagnerian music, the dachshund has come back into favor. From last year's high of 453, the American Kennel Club's dachshund registration has now leaped to some 2,200. The dog's droll appearance and manners, its intelligence, loyalty and hardiness have won it friends. Some famed dachs-owners: Alfred Lunt & Lynn Fontanne, Otto Kahn, Rosamond Pinchot Gaston, Katharine Cornell, Marlene Dietrich, Richard Tauber, Dorothy Parker.