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Goodbye to an old friend, hello to a new one


JAB

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A few months back, Mia - my little, old chihuahua, died. She was seventeen and I had her from the time she was first weaned. She wasn't the typical 'shiver and snap' chihuahua - she actually liked people although she knew to bark if someone was outside who didn't belong there. She made just about the perfect watchdog (not to be confused with a guard dog) when I lived in the 'hood in Knoxville. In fact, I still believe she saved my life one night. Her barking woke me at around 2am. Knowing that she didn't just bark for no reason, I took my .38 and went to check things out - and ended up stopping three guys who were trying to break in the front door.

When I first got Mia, I was still in college. She was with me for the latter half of my twenties, my entire thirties and was still there with me when I turned 40 and almost until my 41st birthday. She was there when my wife and I started dating, when we got engaged, when we got married and was still there after we separated. She was there through the death of my grandmother (with whom I lived while I was attending college) and my father. No matter what, she was always glad to see me and, despite her small stature and while I knew she wouldn't be much in a fight, I always felt that she 'had my back', so to speak. Many friends - some I considered close friends - came and went but that little dog was always there, a constant for seventeen years. And then she was gone. I wanted to post a pic of her but don't seem to have any on Photobucket at the moment (I'll have to remedy that.)

Well, I was in no hurry to get another dog but I wasn't exactly opposed to it, either. I knew that, as I live in the country, now, I wanted a bigger dog. I wanted a dog that could come in the house and keep me company but that would also be fine staying out in the yard at times. I wanted a dog that could walk the woods with me without my having to worry too much about the coyotes in our area making a quick snack of it. I also generally prefer female dogs as they don't usually have the same need to mark their territory (by hiking their leg and peeing all over everything) as some male dogs but gender would not be a deal breaker. I had decided to just wait until the right opportunity came along. Funny thing was, a couple of weeks later, it did.

I was at the Crossville flea market trying to get rid of some extra Bantam roosters that I had when I saw a lady and her kids were giving away a couple of puppies. The lady said that they were a cur mix (further research leads me to believe that she is mostly a Mountain Cur - apparently the same type of dog as Old Yeller was in the book although not the movie.) Both puppies were female. The lady said that they had to take them from their mother before it was really 'time' because she was trying to wean them early and had been snapping at them, etc. and they were afraid she was going to hurt them. They were only about five or six weeks old at the time. Something about the smaller of the two called out to me and I ended up taking her home. From the second I first held her, she took to me - licking my chin and chewing at my beard as if she'd known me all along. I named her Millie, which is a name I never would have thought to give a dog but just seemed to fit her (I didn't know at the time that one of G.W. Bush's dogs was named Millie and not being a big 'fan' of Bush that certainly isn't why I chose the name.)

The day I got her, if I cupped both of my hands together she could curl up and lie down in my palms. This is a picture of her from just the other day, at about 3.5 months old:

photobucket-1881-1342556089885.jpg

Now, generally she is an energetic (until she gives out at which time she converts to more or less a puppy shaped sack of potatoes), fun loving, fairly easy going puppy who hasn't quite gotten that whole fine motor skills thing down. My mom is my next door neighbor so she stays with her while I am at work. She plays with and loves mom's dogs. She plays with an loves my sister's kids. She even plays well with my estranged wife's miniature daschund and never hurts the little weiner dog despite now being nearly three times her size. She does well at the vet, seems to like most people and makes me laugh a lot.

The other night, I was at my mom's house just hanging out and getting ready to take Millie home when mom's dogs started barking and carrying on. Obvously, there was something in the woods behind her house (which would also be behind mine.) It isn't unusual for them to behave that way as we have coyotes, deer and other critters that sometimes get pretty close after dark. I went ahead and put Millie on her leash (I always have her on a leash when she is outside because I am trying to teach her to stay close to me when we are walking around) and headed outside.

My front yard has a fence around it and there is a gate between my yard and mom's. I had just gotten Millie through the gate, closed it and started toward my front door when she quickly (as in so quickly that my eyes couldn't really follow her) ran/leaped from my right side over to my left, yanking hard on the leash. She then started barking at an area somewhere around the back corner of the fence. Now, I have heard her 'arf' sometimes when she is playing but there was nothing playful about this bark. In fact, she finished off the bark with a low, guttural growl then stood her ground with her hackles up. For just a few seconds, my little, goofy, clumsy, happy-go-lucky, twenty pound puppy was gone and a little mutt with the heart of a 195 pound Rotweiler stood in her place. I never saw whatever was there but with the way she was acting (and the way mom's dogs acted) it may well have been a coyote. Whatever it was, it spooked her because when I got her started back toward the house she hurried along with her ears back in her typical 'I'm scared' look.

That was when I realized that this little, THREE AND A HALF MONTH OLD PUPPY had just knowingly, willingly and without hesitation flung herself between me and something she viewed as a threat. Not only that but, despite being quite scared, she had held her ground and barked/growled a challenge and a warning that Ol' Whatever-It-Was had darned well better back off and leave her master alone or it was going to have her to deal with.

After I got her inside I got the shotgun and went back out to see if I could lay eyes on the thing that had upset her so. For her part, she kept barking and - once again in spite of the fact that she was scared, herself - tried her best to get out the door with me and not let me go back out there alone. I was touched and, I must admit, pretty proud of her.

So, anyhow, that's my tribute to the memory of my old friend as well as a little bragging on my new one.

Edited by JAB
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Guest Lester Weevils

That's a great story, JAB.

When I would walk the previous generation of dogs around the block-- Up the street were a couple of adult toy chihuahuas small enough to fit a teacup. Nowhere near big as a self-respecting rat. They would run up barking and growling, challenging my big ole lab and the medium size boykin spaniel. My dogs would stare in puzzlement, "You're kidding, right?" Perhaps slightly lacking in judgement but one must admire a chihuahua's audacity.

That is a cute new pup. A few years ago daughter adopted a pound puppy (born at the pound), who might as well be the clone of your new dog. Had wondered if there was any cur in that pound pup. Dogs with that appearance seem common. Maybe in "mixed breed" dogs it is a mistake to expect a similar personality profile based on similar appearance, but daughter's dog is the most obsessed ball-fetching dog I've seen. Surely a hunter could teach her to retrieve EASY. She is into it. She will fetch balls for hours and only stop when she drops from exhaustion. Until she is completely wore out she will drop the ball at yer feet and beg till you throw the ball again. It would be interesting if your dog also turns out to be a ball fetch addict.

Edited by Lester Weevils
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