This is my first small dog. The others in my life have ranged from medium to hefty.
If I met this dog on the street, I'd think yuick, ew, no way. Sure she's kind of cute, but that chihuahua personality is just obnoxious. SO very yappy. She barks at much larger dogs, barks at people, barks at nothing in particular. She has a special "intruder alert!" bark she saves for when I'm the only human at home and I'm in the shower. Asshole dog. Probably knows I'm still freaked by Psycho.
At the vet's office she has to wear a muzzle and last time they decided that wasn't enough to protect them from her wrath and wrapped her in a freaking towel, covering her face so she wouldn't see who was touching her.
She's not very bright either. When she gets outside, she takes off, operating on a few neurons that allow her to run and to bark (although I admit it's easier to follow that way--follow the sound trail of yapping) but not think. She's a terrible judge of danger and ignores cars and attacks huge dogs. It's a wonder that she managed to survive on the streets--which she did for a few weeks at least.
Clearly, she's a bad-tempered and stupid little animal. And here's the thing: I adore her.
She follows me around and frequently hops along on her back feet and paws at me with her front. It's sometimes painful and usually annoying to get pawed at for no reason. BUT when I go into a room and she's not at my heels, I go looking for her, because hey, she's supposed to be there. When she pulls that hop/hop/paw treatment on other people, like our neighbor she loves, I feel a tad betrayed.
She's gotten out a couple of times--raced off down the block, with me huffing and calling after her. I have an emergency stash of special treats just in case that happens again. Every time she gets out, I panic and feel terror. What if I can't catch her this time? I get a flash of a bleak future without yapping and it's all I can do not to burst into tears.
I've had this strange repulsion/love relationship with this dog for over a year and I still don't get it. Why do we put up with each other? It reminds me a little of that very basic attachment with a baby. Strong and completely insane. The goddamn thing isn't even always reliably house-trained.
Could there be a biological imperative for women of a certain age to bond with small yappy dogs? Even if we don't like that sort of dog, we end up with one? The day I got her, I'd planned to pick up a mid-sized model at the pound, but our old big dog liked this pup. Yeah, it's my other dog's fault.
The one saving grace: I only use the cutesy wootsy aww snookums high-pitched voice with her when we're alone. For now. Maybe that voice--like the baffling presence of this dog in my life, and the even more baffling power she has over me--is inevitable.
How did I end up like this? Argh. Couldn't tell you at the moment. The UPS truck is here and I can't hear myself think over the yapping.