Hi, Pet Buddies!
When my assistant told me I’d be interviewing a Chihuahua, I pictured a bouncy little pupster with short hair, clicky toenails and, possibly, an accent like that “Yo quiero Taco Bell” actor.
So I started practicing my Spanish 101, and was still mumbling, “Hola! Me llamo Bonzo!” when the door opened. At first, all I saw were two humans, Lyn and John Robichaud. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of toenails on tile. And a little black and white fluffball came scooting out, yapping to beat the band.
“This is Lucy,” John said, by way of introduction.
“A girl,” I thought, standing very still, hoping she would stop bobbing and twirling – and yapping.
“Pleased to meet you, Lucy,” I said, as she dashed about in circles, occasionally glancing up at her humans. “I’m Bonzo.”
“That’s what you SAY, but do you have any ID? You can’t be too careful these days.” She stopped running about and stood, all four paws firmly planted, with a look meant to be ferocious, ears flat back, almost touching behind her head, eyes squinty.
Relieved I wouldn’t have to speak Spanish, I was desperately trying not to laugh, because Lucy couldn’t have weighed more than 6 pounds, wringing wet, and looked anything but ferocious.
I spotted a copy of the paper, open to my column, on the nearby coffee table. Wanting to put her mind at ease and get on with the interview, I said, “See? That’s me.”
She glanced at the paper, then back up at me a couple of times. Finally her ears popped back up and she smiled. “Yep. OK. That’s you. Come on in and have a sit.”
Once she stopped flying about, she was pretty cute. Big black eyes, huge sail-shaped ears, and long black hair with a white ruff and white sox. Wait … long hair?
“Are you sure you’re a Chihuahua? I mean, you have so much hair.”
Relaxed now, she rolled her eyes, “Of COURSE. I’m a long-haired Chihuahua. Didn’t you read up on me? My ancestors were Mexican but I’m all-American. My humans got me in Naples, Florida. They thought they were getting two Chihuahuas but, when they arrived, they discovered that the other dog was a Jack Russell. But they took us both anyway. They named me Lucy and him Ricky.”
I shook my head. “Humans!” I mumbled.
“I KNOW,” she agreed. “We were both still little pupsters. Dad said we were so small, when he walked us in the neighborhood, people laughed and told him it looked like he was walking two hamsters. He was embarrassed. Anyway, I am a solo act and Ricky was cramping my style. So I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
She smiled in a way that made me shiver. I didn’t ask for details and she didn’t offer.
“So my humans found another home for Ricky. Mom says we got a divorce. Yep, I may be little and cuddly-looking but I’m a tough cookie, Bonzo.”
“I can see that,” I managed, wisely deciding not to share my chihuahua joke.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she said sweetly. “I am very well socialized. I get along with all the dogs at the Bark Park and my dog friends up the road. But this is my house. Just me. Period.”
“Know any tricks?” I asked.
“Oh, sure!” She stood in front of her dad. “I’ve got him trained. Watch this.”
“Sit,” said John. She sat. He gave her a treat.
“Lie down,” said John. She plopped down flat on her tummy. He gave her a treat.
“Up,” said John. She stood on her back tippy toes and stretched her front paws up. He gave her a treat.
“Grand finale,” she said under her breath.
“Spin,” said John. She curved her head around and spun in several circles, toenails clicking like crazy. He gave her a treat.
“Wow! That was great,” I told her.
“I know,” she said.
“Do you get out much?” I wondered.
“Oh, yes! On Sunday my humans and I go to breakfast at J.D.’s Corner Deli. I always get bacon and grits. But my very favorite food EVER is my mom’s spaghetti and meatballs. When I’m done, my lovely white ruff is covered with spaghetti sauce. But, boy, it’s worth it.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Wanna see my room? Mom got me this loft bed at Tuesday Morning. It’s wicker. And look at my drawer.“ There was a nice roomy drawer beneath, with her fluffy cushiony bed on top. “All my stuffed toys are in it. I pick one out every night. Yellow Bear is my favorite.”
“But to tell you the truth, I always end up sleeping with Mom and Dad. They have to lift me up there, tho, because their bed is extra high. Sometimes they forget me and go do something else. I just patiently wait till they come back. No WAY am I gonna jump off. “
“Er, but what if you have to, um, you know …?”
“I am a very fastidious girl. I simply exert self-control. I NEVER make a mess.”
“I see you have a nice deck, right on the river. Do you go out there much?”
“Only when mom or dad are watching me. It’s dangerous out there. There are alligators. And big hawks that could swoop down and grab me and – poof! I’d be a little snack. Plus, I really, really don’t like the sound of rain and wind. But I always feel safe and comfy inside, with Mom and Dad.”
“Just as it should be,” I said.
Til Next Time,
The Bonz
