Rescue Me! 5


I have never been to Crufts! I will never go to Crufts! Pedigree dog breeding is the bane of my life. People breed dogs and they become fashionable. Dogs should never be fashion items (especially not Chihuahuas).  When fashionable, they become expensive. They become a source of quick money for unscrupulous breeders to sell to fickle buyers. Does no one remember the ‘A dog is for life, not just for Christmas’ campaign? Perhaps I remember it because I ended up with two of my little fuckers during the season of good will.

I thought it was a good idea to get a dog when we moved to the Ugly House. My first (first, ffs!!!) dog came from a small local Animal Rescue. It was at the person’s house and he came out with two dogs. I was given the choice of a blind poodle or a little Boston terrier/Chihuahua cross. The cross was seriously cute. No contest. He smelt really bad. The dog did too.

I took the little dog for a trial day, on condition that if he was mean to my cats, I could bring him back.  He was so pitiful and stinky and terrified of the cats that I never returned him that evening. I thought, with some love, he would come out of his shell. I hadn’t realized his true nature when I stood at the Primary school gates to pick up my son, watching little biddy kids stroke him. He was terrified at first. The more confident he got, he certainly came out of his shell! He truly revealed himself about 3 weeks later, at a market in Bridport, when he lunged at an old woman who stopped to stroke him, and bit her! We thought it was just my mother he hated, but it was all old women. He hasn’t stopped lunging since. Little Chihuahua muzzles are best sellers. It was at the Vet’s expense that he didn’t insist on the dog wearing one for his microchip.

Ugily Pugily

There’s a reason fickle buyers dump their Chihuahuas. They are vile! Turns out the Animal Trust has a turn over of the vile little fuckers, unscrupulously ‘rescued’ from Battersea’s Death Row. Lifers! Biters! These biters are then coerced into not biting by whatever cruel means (I haven’t worked out any kind ones) you coerce mean little dogs and then ‘sold’ for a sizable charitable donation (cash of course) to stupid do-gooders like me. I’m not fickle. I wont give up on him. I had committed, unwittingly, to a lifetime with this quirky little boy.

We called him Pugily, because he was ugily (He isn’t but it amused me). Then it morphed into Piggy, puggy, Pugilet, Mr Pigglesworth… He responds to all or none at any given time. It’s a strange wonder he has never bitten me… other than my nose… which he bites out of pure affection.

When we have visitors, we have to ask that they allow him to have a sniff (luckily he is very small so he cant get too up close and personal) and that they do not look at him or talk to him. No eye contact! Some visitors think they are the dog whisperer and break the rules. He lunges! We have a water pistol on hand for stupid visitors and we shoot him with the water pistol. If this initial meeting goes well, he allows safe passage and ignores the visitors. He may even sit next to them. Some stupid visitors think this is a sign of acceptance and stoke him. We shoot him before he does too much damage. Sometimes, he will sit on a visitors lap. Some stupid visitors…. You get the idea. It takes about a year of the visitor visiting before we can put the gun back in the holster. He’s then a friend for life and a real sweetheart. If the rules are broken he never forgets. Some of my Son’s friends, when they were younger, thought it funny to tease him from the other side of the glass door. Five years on and he doesn’t even give them the sniff test. He just goes for their dangling hands or anything else dangling.

On the lead, he would go mental at any other dog regardless of their size. It was truly embarrassing to have to take a water pistol on walks and shoot the little fucker. We discovered, off the lead he was the opposite and would happily rollick with other dogs. It took about a year for him to settle, for his bald chest (from stress) to grow hair and for him to stop biting hubby (who to all intents and purposes is a weekend visitor!!!).  Our little family unit was calm and harmonious. I thought it was time Puggy had a friend!

… more on that later! How to ruin a Christmas… How to ruin a reasonably harmonious household


Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published.

5 thoughts on “Rescue Me!