Well Susanne, if you are hunting for words here, let me help you. It’s called “You fucked up!”
You got an animal on impulse. Worked once for George, so you thought you had a pass for life. N-O. Think before you get.
I thought. I did. I researched. Small dogs that is. But I never looked at Chihuahuas. Never thought of getting one that small. So I did not know a blooming thing about them. Did not recognize one as a puppy. Just saw that cuuute little puppy and wanted it.
Surprised it turned out mostly Chihuahua, even more surprised at the personality.
At first I was thrilled that the little thing had no fear and acted like it weighed about 150 pounds. I was happy she asserted herself with the big dogs.
Well, at times maybe just a little too much in your face. But she’s so cuuute, that little darling.
Then she about got her clock stopped for being so in-your-face, this-all-belongs-to-me.
And why did I not see that coming? Why did I think Rippa was going to take that shit forever? Getting run off the bed. The bed she had just claimed after Carly’s death. The bed where I sleep. The bed that means Status and Resource.
So now I can no longer trust that Rippa is not going to finish what she started, and I end up with a dead Chihuahua. And who has got to go? Rippa.
Why not the little shit?! After all she came last, we only bonded for a few month. She serves no earthly purpose other than being ever so cuuute.
That little shit, called Gracie mostly, had the good fortune to be older than advertised. They said she was about 6 weeks old. When she came into heat, surprise, surprise, a month early, I had to move her birthday a month back. Instead of about December 1 it would be the beginning of November.
That is what saved her little ass and why she will be mine to her dyeing days.
You see, the best dog on God’s green earth died on the 4th of November last year. So I had decided to make that Gracie’s birthday. It does not make my old dog come back to life, but it is a continuation. How could I ever let Gracie go?!
And Rippa pays the price.
Forgive me baby, for I did not think. It was not ill will. It was just being stupid.
I hope your new life at your new people will be good. Maybe even great. Please, please let that be the case.
I could not do it: Give Rippa away.
I built a kennel, and when I leave, Rippa kennels up. Gracie stays in the house with George. The others stay outside.
Everybody lives happily ever after.
Of course Gracie still throws a fit every time Rippa comes up on the bed at night. And Rippa still gives her The Eye.