I've gotten some great advice from Tiffany and she has always been so supportive of Meno Mama. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this special lady. Please welcome her to my site and give her lots of comment love (some hugs would be nice, too!).
Divas Come In All Shapes And Sizes
It all started with the movie, Beverly Hills Chihuahua. My son was 7 when he first saw it and he instantly fell in love. Had to watch it 10 times in a row. Every day.
“I want a Chihuahua,” he announced shortly thereafter. I pooh-poohed it of course, as I often did his ridiculous requests (a motorcycle, a nuclear submarine), or I’d nod absently and say, “Mmm-hmm, okay, honey,” figuring he’d drop the idea eventually. I should have known my son does not drop anything he truly wants. He hounded me incessantly; he became like this obsessive-compulsive parrot who only knows how to say one word (Chihuahua), or a CD that skips, repeating the same lyric over and over again (Get me a Chihuahua).
A year later, when he still hadn’t gotten the whole Chihuahua thing out of his head, I began to take him seriously. We had talked about getting a dog before, but there was no way in Hell I would ever consider a Chihuahua.
“They’re just not kid-friendly dogs,” I tried to explain to the boy. “I don’t even think they’re people-friendly dogs. They’re mean, yappy oversized…” rats that I’d like to punt like a football. Okay, so I didn’t actually say that, but I thought it. I’m a cat person. I’ve had 7 cats at one time. I don’t do dogs. They’re kinda stinky, they’re over-enthusiastic about everything, and they poop a lot.
And yet, I had this Norman Rockwell image in my head of a boy sitting on the steps with his arm around a dog. Except in the image, the dog was a strong and noble Lab, not a quivering slip of a dog that old ladies dress up in cutesy sweaters. To the animal shelter we went, just to look. Unfortunately, we live in a complex with a 40-lb.-limit dog rule. Every time my son and I visited the shelter (sadly bursting to capacity with barking Pit Bulls and Chihuahuas), I’d have a poor shelter attendant drag out a Lab mix and weigh them. “Sorry, this one’s 43 lbs.” or “This one’s 38 lbs., but she’s going to get bigger.”
The boy and I must have visited that shelter 50 times in search of the “perfect” dog.
“Won’t you at least consider a different breed of dog,” I’d plead, as we’d pass the cages with the snarling Chihuahuas and their ear-piercing, nonstop barking.
“No, I have to have a Chihuahua.”
During one fateful visit as we strolled through the area where the shelter kept the large dogs, there amidst the deafening barks was this 7-month old Chestnut brown Chihuahua in this huge cage, and she wasn’t barking. She wasn’t barking. She approached us, friendly as can be, and licked our fingers through the bars. The boy and I were instantly smitten. We adopted her on the spot.
I wish I could say we lived happily ever after, but the truth is this Chihuahua is everything I knew she’d be and worse. That no barking ruse? Apparently, it was all a ploy to get us to adopt her. She in fact, does bark. All the time. At falling leaves, cats, the sound of a voice 3 towns away. And she snaps at small children who reach down to pet her. And she chases poor, unsuspecting kids on skateboards and bikes, scaring the bejeezus out of them. Oh, and then there’s the peeing on the carpet that I’ve since had to replace. And the need to be near me or on me every nanosecond of the day.
You see, she became my dog, not my son’s, because, well, my son is a bit rambunctious and smothering and I don’t think Chihuahuas appreciate those traits. And while I can’t say I’ve transformed into a dog person (dogs are just so needy compared to cats), this diva Chihuahua has indeed sucked me in under her diva spell. She forces me to baby her, and allow her to sleep in my bed. I have to buy her more expensive food than the cats, and yes, I must dress her up in cute sweaters, dresses and Halloween costumes—because a diva won’t have it any other way.
Do you think there are more dog people or cat people in the world? If you have a cat or a dog, tell me something ridiculous you do with them.
Tiffany N. York lives in SoCal with her spirited son, diva Chihuahua, 3 ½ cats, and 2 screeching parakeets. She writes romance to escape reality. Her first book, The Accidental Cougar is available on Amazon.
You can read her somewhat raunchy blog that her family doesn’t know about here: http://singlewritermomrants.wordpress.com/
New LIKES on her Facebook page get her very excited: https://www.facebook.com/tiffanynyorkauthor?ref=hl