I don’t know what it is about small little dogs but they really, really despise my dogs. For instance, take last night. We were able to take a nice evening constitution in daylight since the temperature had cooled off enough to make it comfortable for everyone. Ok, so far so good. We were on the last stretch of our 2+ mile walk when we encountered a guy with a couple little Chihuahuas. I spied them about half a block away. I could also see the much larger 3 dogs at the opposite corner we were approaching so I decided to take the high road, otherwise known as walking in the street between the two opposing dog camps. The smallest of the two Chihuahuas started snarling and carrying on like a possessed beast, screeching like a banshee being pulled through a knothole. How is it that 5 pounds of fur turns into 100 pounds of noise and fury? Rather than a couple quick leash correction tugs, what does the brave guy walking this pint-sized hellion do? He picks up the noisy offender and holds him out chest high as if it’s some sort of radio-active soiled diaper or something.
Can anyone tell me why little dogs much like this one below, who looks remarkably like the one we encountered, loathe my dogs? Anyone, Buehler? I mean sure, both of them have their moments in the ‘today I’m going to be a jerk’ category, but sheesh, we were just out for an evening walk for crying out loud, minding our own business.
Grrr!
Sam looked at me. Even Elsa looked at me. Then they both looked at the snarling handful. They both seemed to echo a “what the…heck look?” I rolled my eyes and we walked on through but I swear both dogs shook their heads in disbelief. I dunno…maybe it was the eery sunset from all the smoke drifting in from the West Coast fires that made the little monster pup go off.
Apologies for the crappy image from the phone-it really was much more reddish-orange in real life. Note the smokey sky? I miss our blue skies which we haven’t seen for days. Then again, I shouldn’t complain since Colorado isn’t on fire like the West Coast has been this summer. Knock on wood.
Do tiny demons dogs react that way around your pups? You think it’s the Napoleon complex? I don’t think either of my knuckleheads are threatening, but then I’m not a tiny little dog. If anything they’d beat someone to death with tail wags.
Tomorrow I leave town to attend my…gulp…50th high school class reunion so there won’t be a post this Friday. How in the world does a 50th anniversary sneak up on you? Rest assured our good friend Friday will be showing up with wine (or beer for you malted suds lovers) so please enjoy one, especially after a short week that seemed extra long. Right now I have to go lose 15 lbs. quick between I drop in on my fellow geezers classmates this weekend. This. ought. to. be. interesting.
Live love, bark! ❤︎
Meanwhile, back at the scene of the crime, I realized we had caught him ‘screen-handed’ though by the time I retrieved Elsa from chasing him, the only thing left was yet another torn screen in the exact same spot as the prior 2 times. Little bastard. If it only happened a few times every 4 or 5 years, I probably wouldn’t be so cranky about it. But this was less than two weeks ago!! So I went out to the garage to see if I still had any rat traps. While I didn’t find a rat trap, I did find a couple of mouse traps and baited them with some peanut butter. Not 30 minutes later that same hoodlum snatched the glob of PB off one and triggered the other one from the window sill. Are you freaking kidding me??!!
A bit of background on this little girl. Almost from the time she was rescued, she would ‘dig’ at her bed. Not just a couple of paw scratches to create some kind of nest, but some seriously digging. Like she was digging to China. She paws, scratches and digs with her front paws, then circles around the heap and flops down. It’s entertaining as all get out, but bizarrely weird since I’ve never had a dog that dug like that so intensely. She goes full-on excavator for several minutes.
