Don't even think about calling me Paris

One of the major downfalls of being a chihuahua lover in the year of 2009 is the stigma associated with the mighty chihuahua. Yes, pop culture has created a crazy image that if you love chihuahuas, you must love them because P. Hilton loves them as well. This drives me BATTY since, quite frankly, I loved the wee chihuahua eons before Ms. Hilton started prancing around with Tink in her purse.

Ugh.

So, to further clarify the situation I have composed a little gem for your reading enjoyment! (Ha.) Well, I know my Mom will like it at least. Enjoy!

These are the Chihuahuas of our Lives Part 1

Once upon a time, in the far away land of Nova Scotia lived a little girl by the name of Natalie. She lived happily with her Mom, Dad and sister named Sister. When she was very little her family had a Boston Terrier dog by the name of Brig. At the age of five, little Natalie moved from New Minas to Yarmouth. Her parents told her that the family did not have the time to properly care for a dog, so before the family moved, they gave away little Briggy.

A few years later the family acquired another dog, this time a cocker spaniel who they named Sam. After about a year, the family once again sadly realized they did not have enough time and they once again gave their dog away, this time to an elderly couple who the Dad knew.

That summer, little Natalie who was now nine years old was on vacation with her family in a mysterious land we shall call South Western New Brunswick. Natalie would often play happily outside with her cousin at Cousin’s house. Cousin had a new big, wild, white dog named Bingo. This dog spent most of his life chained up outside, did not receive proper exercise and therefore was wildly excitable and barked nonstop. Cousin told Natalie to be careful around this dog as it was totally untrained and not safe to be around children.

This one particular, sunny and warm day, Bingo was lying down and looking particularly pathetic in its dirt patch that he called home. He gazed over to young Natalie and enticed him with his eyes to come and pat him, “Come here Natalie... come pat me, I am your friend. I will not hurt you.” Natalie, trusting the sad and lonely gaze from Bingo decided to follow her instincts and slowly started walking towards Bingo with her hand held out tentatively for him to smell.

At this precise moment Bingo became so overwhelmed by his pent up energy and joy that a human was paying attention to him, that he sprang up into the air as fast as a rocket ship blasting off from planet Earth. He leaped maniacally with excitement toward the young Natalie and landed with his big, dirty paws on each one of the little girl’s shoulders and pulled her towards him. She screamed in confusion and terror as she was pulled sharply toward the dog. Suddenly, Bingo’s big brown slimy teeth struck the young Natalie’s pearly whites and wiped his fat, slobbery pink tongue over her mouth so violently that the little girl fell to the ground. Natalie crawled away from the chained dog, totally in shock.

Young Natalie lay dazed on the ground as her teeth ached in pain. She and Cousin then ran across the field to their grandparent’s house to tell her Mom and Dad what had happened. Natalie arrived breathless with tears streaking down her dirty face and landing upon her now filthy and stained pink t-shirt. After hearing this tale, the Mom gently held young Natalie, consoling her upset little daughter. Natalie’s uncle who we will call Uncle, added his two cents, cackled maniacally and said, “You know where that tongue just was? Lickin’ it’s dang ass! AHAHAHAA! HAHAHAA!” The mental image overwhelmed the young girl as fresh tears sprang from her eyes and vomit rose in her mouth.

From that day forward, Natalie despised dogs with an irrational fear. She could still feel those big brown, slimy teeth on hers and the feces coated (or so she believed) tongue wiping across her mouth.

To Be Continued...