One day Chico wandered into the play area of my son’s fiance’s sisters home. He had no collar and had a knife slice across his back, which was in the healing process. Otherwise he seemed healthy and was friendly with the sisters children. Chico was a chihuahua, but large for the type, 13 pounds. He didn’t seem to be disposed to leave, and since the sister didn’t want to adopt him, my son’s fiance, Thea, brought him to my son’s and my home. At first he was only friendly with Thea and kept Jeff and I at bay, snarling if we got near. As time passed, he proved to be a mans dog, and ended up being friendly with Jeff and I, snarling when Thea tried to caress him.
Chico was very independent. If he got out of house off lease he wouldn’t let you pick him up, and only came back when he got good and ready. This became a problem when he got loose at times when accompanying us shopping, because he would disappear and not return to where the car was parked for up to an hour. If you located him during this time, he would evade you until he was done wandering.
He became very playful, snarling and snapping when you wrestled with him. If he happened to nip you in this process, he would immediately stop and hop up with his arms around yourneck, licking your face, tail wagging vigorously. If he encountered children in the area, particularly if they were riding bicycles, he would run after them, jumping up on them and barking. This frightened them until they realized he wasn’t going to hurt them. It wasn’t long before he had a reputation in the neighborhood and the kids would brag “I touched Chico” and began inquiring “where is Chico?”.
He eventually became my constant companion, staying near me wherever I happened to be in the house and sitting on the center console of my car whenever I went somewhere. He entertained himself by staring at drivers that pulled along side at stop lights and barking furiously at them if they returned his stare. He did not like to be left alone and would try to scratch a hole in the stucco if left in the back yard, and scatter all the waste baskets if left in the house. If you secured these, he would urinate in the center of the family room tile to make sure you wouldn’t miss it. He would then hide somewhere in the house, and was very difficult to find sometimes. If you scolded him and he was able to slip out of the house you would find him walking slowly with his head down and tail between his legs, “running away from home”.
He appeared to be a target for German Shepherds and was attacked on two occasions, one resulting in an expensive vet bill. The Shepherd only suffered a damaged penis. On the other he was able to extract himself by maneuvering under the Shepherd until help arrived.
He always maintained his habit of slipping out of the house unnoticed sometimes and not returning until he was ready. The only difference was that he would come to you and let you pick him up if you located him. One day he didn’t return and we couldn’t find him. We notified security and they asked around. After about three days he was located. He had been maced with pepper spray and had taken refuge with a family nearby.
He eventually developed a paralysis type condition where he would stiffen up like a board with his eyes glazed. This was quite scary, but found that by giving him a rub down, it would eventually pass. A large vet bill cured him of this problem. Later he contracted cushings disease, where he lost his hair, got lesions on his skin, and developed a thirst and a desire for food that couldn’t be satisfied. He developed an uncanny skill at slipping out of the house unnoticed and scouring the neighborhood begging for food and water. I got many calls from neighbors to come pick up my dog. I knew he was missing but was unable to locate him myself. Eventually he lost his appetite and lost control of his body functions, along with coughing up blood. The vets (yes, got a second opinion) recommended that he be put to sleep, because he was beyond help.
So on the day of the appointed time I took him to his favorite place and watched him wander around for a couple hours while I prepared myself for the final act. I then took him to the vet and held him while he was injected with the death dealing fluid. I am not an emotional person but I have never felt this sad about any human close to me passing away.
I have had pets before, but have never become this attached. Maybe it was because Chico was such an individual that I dealt with him like he was human. You always felt his affection, yet he didn’t like to be caressed. If you picked him up he would look at you as if to say, “faggot”. Yes, he was a male.
I am aware of the advice that the dog whisperer gives, but I liked him just the way he was. I will always miss him.
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