By Irving Leemon, Contributing Columnist
Last July 4th I lost two of the sweetest dogs I’ve ever known. All of my life I’ve owned dogs, mostly medium sized, such as German shepherd mixes, and Retriever mixes. Early on I decided that I did not want documented pure breeds because I do not like what happens to them. Just look at the Collies, their brains have been bred out of them so that they can have long snouts, and Shepherds tend to get hip displacements. I never expected to have “mice” as pets. However, after my son adopted a tri colored (black, white, and tan) Chihuahua, Hugo, I changed my mind. Hugo is the gentlest, calmest, most devoted to his companion, Chihuahua I’d ever met.
As a result, I began looking in the City shelters for “the Chihuahua.” After about a year I found and adopted Chico, he weighed (6 pounds), was tan, and a shorthaired, mature Chihuahua. He developed an infection when he was neutered and as a result, he had to be taken back to the vet’s seven days a week for two weeks. He also had to be kept as quiet and still as possible. Because of this we spent a lot of time on the couch together watching TV. He and I bonded within a couple of days. One of the great things about him was that he wasn’t so small that I worried about stepping on him. He was the most affectionate of dogs and loved my back yard. He loved it when I took him for walks in the neighborhood and introduced him to the children. After a while I realized that he had to be lonely when I went out, and if I decided to travel, he would be even lonelier.
So, after about six months of looking, I found a female Chihuahua mix, she also was tan in color (and about 10 pounds). Already having a Chico, I decided to name her Chiquita. I now had two dogs named “small.” She also was a sweetheart, though she liked to bolt and run down the street if a door was carelessly opened. After a couple to three hours of roaming the neighborhood, she would come home, and be all excited to be home. Being a dog person, of course, I did the wrong thing and yelled at her to come. And, naturally, she made a game of letting me get just so close and then running away again. I finally got the message and went through the door to the attached garage so that one door was closed when the other one was opened. A couple of times, when I was careless, she got out and came home stinking.
She had rolled in another dog’s poop. Dogs sometimes do this to show other dogs that they are part of that dog’s pack. What fun! Washing her four or five times to get the stink out! I had to get a new collar because the stink could not be washed out! Chico and Chiquita became a pack, were affectionate with me, with each other, and also affectionate towards people that I approved of and let into the house. That is, if they weren’t trades people that I hired to do work around the house. Some how they knew the difference. They never attacked anyone, but they did know the difference between friend and worker. They barked in a non-friendly way towards the trade’s people.
Back to the present. It took me six months, until January, before I could begin to look for another dog. I went to the local shelter thinking it would take a couple of months before I found other Chihuahuas that I liked, and they liked me. What a shock! I found two dogs on the first visit! They were cage mates and had been together for quite a while. And oh, they were both males, short haired and tan. The bigger one is a mix with another breed and the smaller one appears to be a pure breed. I couldn’t think of other names because I don’t like “name II.” My girlfriend came up with the perfect names, “Ben & Jerry.” The smaller one is called “Ben” therefore he has the shorter name. Of course these dogs are different and the dynamic between them is different. But I’m confident that our relationship will be as good as I had with the last ones.