It’s not my first thought when I hear the phrase “in the doghouse,” but I’ve realized that’s exactly where I am:

I  am living with two dogs that are running my house and my life.

“Man’s best friend” is one of the most wonderful creatures on earth, but it comes with enormous responsibility and cost. 

After my large dog phase ended and my children moved on, I got a short-haired dachshund at the suggestion of a dachshund-loving friend.

Dachshunds are small dogs with large personalities living inside long bodies, and they’ll melt your heart with their big brown eyes.

Oliver, my first, lived for almost 11 years. When he was 10, I got a second to keep him  company, which we all know was for me and not him. He could not have cared less for Hardy and his puppy energy.

Recently, I agreed to dog-sit my daughter’s long-haired dachshund while she is out of town for several months. J.B. was adopted as a puppy during the COVID-19 pandemic when my daughter was living in Chicago.

My dog, Hardy, is very mellow but — full disclosure — does bark a lot, which is common to the breed.

J.B., on the other hand, does not like strangers, especially those wearing hats. This includes gardeners, pest control technicians, plant service people, trash haulers, the Rusty’s Pizza delivery man, and Amazon, FedEx and UPS drivers.

The cowering of grown men from this little dog is somewhat amusing, but it’s a big responsibility making sure he doesn’t actually nip them to let them know it’s his house.

Both dogs hate the rain and getting their dainty little paws wet. With such a wet winter and now spring, I’ve had to erect outdoor umbrellas and carry them outside to go do their business.

Just when I think they’re going to go, they give me the side eye and dash back in to pee and poop on my favorite and most expensive area rugs when I’m not looking.

After buying every spray on the market in an unsuccessful attempt to discourage this bad behavior, I now know that “housebroken” is me being broken and defeated.

At my eldest daughter’s insistence, I finally bought a crate for the little terror, J.B., and put up toddler gates around my living and dining rooms, which gives my house the appearance of a prison. My rugs are protected but the aesthetic is not pretty.

Whoever said a dog will eat anything never owned a dachshund. They turn up their noses with a look that says, “Are you kidding me?”

I try a different dog food monthly and have even sprinkled their food with human leftovers — a big no-no. Being a Jewish mother, I worry they’re going to starve. 

Hardy also has a keen sense of direction. My veterinarian is in Carpinteria, and the minute I get on southbound Highway 101 he goes crazy. How does he know we’re not going for a walk but for vaccinations? If I go north, no reaction. How does that work?

J.B. hides under the bed when it’s time for his vet appointment. I’ve used every temptation to coax him out, but he knows what’s happening and retreats to an unreachable spot.

After a staredown contest, I give up.

Of course, I’m willing to tolerate the accidents, barking and stubbornness because of the affection I get in return.

Who else is so happy to see me when I come home? I don’t remember my kids jumping up and down and giving me sloppy kisses.

An added bonus: The dogs don’t criticize me or talk back.

Yes, I will admit I also talk to the dogs as humans, and they answer in their own ways — including playing the Big G, guilt.

Their eyes, smiles, whines and barking are how they express themselves. This behavior can come from wanting to go out for a walk, being left alone for too long, panic at the mere sight of a suitcase before I leave for a vacation, or just begging for treats.

I’ve even hired a dog-walking service three mornings a week so they get exercise and can socialize with other dogs … and I get a break. 

Dogs have warm hearts and cold noses, and I do like them better than some people I know. My dog-owning days are far from over, and I’m happy about that.

But if you’re tempted to get a pup of your own, you might not want to do it unless you’re ready to love, honor and obey … the dog.