My Demon Chihuahua is...a Duck?!

For those who don't know, I own a Demon Chihuahua. I say this because she is most calculating little creature that I know.

I admit that back in the day, I was not too crazy about chihuahuas. I thought them to be rather unattractive dogs with bulging bug eyes that only prissy rich girls owned. I did not picture myself sporting a dog as an accessory à la Paris Hilton.

I'm sure that most of us are familiar with the stereotype that chihuahuas are little hyperactive mutant rats with a high-pitched bark that sounds more like a squeaky chewtoy. They also nervously shiver for no apparent reason.

I really never pictured myself with a chihuahua because I never wanted one. Beurk.

So, how I earth did my family succumb to owning one?

My family ended up with Maddie through a family friend. This friend had a friend who knew a grandmother who had given her grandson a pet chihuahua for Christmas; he turned out to be allergic to dogs. This telephone game eventually ended in her needing a good home. One Saturday afternoon, the family friend went to visit the friend of the grandmother at her Miami Beach apartment.

I don't want to get smarmy on you guys but it honestly was love at first sight.

I had the revelation that a chihuahua is a dog just like any other, and I now feel remorse for having thought any other way about them. I've observed that Maddie rarely gets shake attacks. If she does, its only when she faces a situation in which she feels threatened or out of her zone (like getting a bath). And I am glad to report that her bark is far from being a squeak toy; it actually sounds like a real I'm-a-dog-be-scared-of-me bark.

Yet since I got her a couple of years ago, I've wonder if Maddie is only a dog.

She has a strange quirk that has bothered me ever since I got her. When she becomes overly excited, she begins to hyperventilate in a manner that suggests she will soon hock up a furball. The sound itself strangely resembles a quack. I've only seen this behavior displayed in another chihuahua as well.

I've just learned to accept it. What can I do?

As a treat, I will share with you guys an authentic, totally undoctored* photo of the infamous Demon Chihuahua.

Voilà:

There she is. Scheming on the rug next to my bed. Doesn't she strike absolute terror into your quivering heartstrings?

* Okay, I made some minor adjustments.

Barb the French Bean

The Bear Next Door

As the title indicates, I live next door to a bear!!!!

Well...not really. But for what it is worth, the creature of which I speak might as well be a real one.

My neighbors have christened their small dog Osito, which is Spanish for "Teddy bear." Literally, it means "little bear."

I have known Osito ever since he was a three-week old puppy, and I admit that he was an adorable ball of fluff that fit in my hand. He was docile and even kind to the much older dog my neighbors own.

He no longer has those traits.

Today, this little bear spends his days hidden away in a cave of gloom. He sits atop a cliff of tacky floral print throw pillows and sends a ricochet of staccato barks to whoever passes in front of his house. If the doorbell rings, he leaps off his perch and menaces the person outside. People think that doors are used to protect people in houses and to keep out strangers; I believe that it is the barricade that keeps Osito from escaping and severing someone's ankles.

The other dog is a constant victim of torment. She has long floppy ears which Osito mercilessly clamps and tears with his teeth. I often hear my neighbors furiously reprimand him for his actions, but it is no use...

Osito preys upon unsuspecting visitors and he succeeds with the fact that he is just so darned cute. I have been a hapless victim of this trick and therefore have the urgency to warn others about him:

Once you are swept by the wave of his "awwwwwwww, how cute" aura, there is no escape. Should you ever come in contact with this little beast, restrain yourself from the temptation of caressing his cuddly head. I assure you, his vicious demeanor is callous. If it ever has the opportunity of luring you into this false sense of security, you will utterly be finished.

Threatened by the way I encroach his habitat of throw pillows, Osito lunges fiercely in a rage of growls and shrieks. If he could talk, he would probably say "I'm gonna nip your toes until they turn blue." He damages countless pairs of stocking with his knife-nails! He slobbers all over my legs and shoes. He purposefully tries to trip me by running under, around and across my trembling legs! He commands me to play with his half-mangled squeaky toys!

Is this not a most fearsome predator?

After some time, however, Osito has gotten more comfortable with my presence. He doesn't growl as much and he even approaches me to graciously allow me to stroke him without fearing a "playful" nip. Why the change of heart? Perhaps he has noticed that I am a good person who likes dogs. Perhaps he has realized that I mean no harm to him. Perhaps he knows that he can trust me when I only want to pet him behind the ears.

At least that is what I would like to believe.

I credit his sudden urge for camaraderie because my personal bodyguard, Maddie the Demon Chihuahua, intimidates him.

There are indeed some beings superior to him...

Sensing this, Osito glumly resorts to barking incessantly. Day in, day out. If there were a medal for pestering me out of my mind, he would win it. Heck, he wins.

He always does...

Barb the French Bean